


Marrow

by DeGlace



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Pairing, F/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 10:26:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 140,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8052751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeGlace/pseuds/DeGlace
Summary: Kimimaro x Sakura. Because some things you feel in your bones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FFnet in 2006. After letting it collect dust for a decade, Marrow deserved a bit of love. It has been rewritten almost entirely – and also, updated. I am much happier with it now, flaws and all.
> 
> Marrow is an AU fic that diverges from the manga from around the Kimimaro/Gaara battle onwards: Orochimaru has Kabuto keep Kimimaro alive as he is unwilling to lose such a bloodline limit. Years later, Sakura is abducted by the Sound while on a mission to Sand. She receives the following proposition: heal Kimimaro in exchange for the guarantee that Orochimaru will not use Sasuke as his next vessel.
> 
> For those of you who don't remember him, Kimimaro is the pretty one who uses his bones as weapons, fighting off first Naruto, then Lee, then Gaara, all while suffering a terminal illness. He was slated as Orochimaru's next vessel. There are not enough fics about this guy. (Possibly because he's, uh, dead, but still.)
> 
> Kimimaro is three years older than Sakura, making him 23 here.

**Marrow**

_Because some things you feel in your bones_

~

 

~

"In the end, it will only be to your advantage to aid us as best you can, Sakura Haruno."

In the gloom of the dark room, Sakura could barely make out Orochimaru's pale face. Though her heart raced, she didn't feel the cold, paralyzing fear that she had felt when she had first met Orochimaru on that fateful day, so long ago now, in the Forest of Death. That fear had matured into a visceral sense of dread and loathing, because now she knew this man – she knew what he had done, and what he was capable of.

Sakura felt the bile rise in her throat when Orochimaru's abnormally long tongue slipped out to moisten his thin lips.

"What is your choice?"

Sakura took a breath before she answered, trying to keep the quaver in her voice to a minimum.

"Help you, or death," she said with much more boldness than she felt. "A fine choice."

Orochimaru's smile widened – he was amused, perhaps, by her bravado. Behind him, a shadowy figure shifted and Sakura was reminded that that traitorous bastard Kabuto was here too.

"Go over the terms of this _proposition_ of yours," said Sakura.

Orochimaru stared at her.

"…Please," added Sakura softly.

An almost imperceptible nod on Orochimaru's part confirmed that Sakura had done the right thing by adding that _please_ , because this man had a strange regard for politeness, custom and respect, even if he was cruel and crazy…

"Of course," said Orochimaru with a voice of silk and venom. "It is a simple proposition. You are the only medic-nin alive who could possibly heal Kimimaro. News of your exploits has reached us in Otogakure. I am informed that your creativity in the field means you surpass dear Tsunade in many ways… and even Kabuto, who is himself something of a prodigy at medical ninjutsu, was highly impressed by your file."

Orochimaru gave a kind of half-shrug, one which set his dead arms swaying momentarily. "However… Kimimaro's condition continues to defy Kabuto's abilities."

Sakura saw the shadowy figure behind Orochimaru look at the floor.

"So our hopes lie in you and your skills," continued Orochimaru. "It is a rare condition, you understand. Rare and, apparently, untreatable. It has proven to be quite stubborn."

Sakura looked up at him, full of curiosity in spite of herself: she had never encountered anything truly _untreatable_ before.

"However. I have heard that you are stubborn too, and have pulled off no less than medical _miracles_ in Konoha. So here is my proposal. If you manage to heal Kimimaro fully, I will proceed with my original plan; that is, to take Kimimaro as my next vessel."

"And Sasuke?" said Sakura.

"And your little _Sasuke-kun_ will go free."

"I'm – I'm not sure that I can believe you," said Sakura, possibly making the understatement of her life, but not daring to be any more accusatory.

Orochimaru studied her with those slitted golden eyes.

"Tread carefully," he said in a voice that was both soft and full of warning. "You might offend me by suggesting that I am not a man of my word. You do not want to offend me, Sakura."

Sakura blinked and looked away, her heart in her throat. The man could radiate death intent like no other shinobi she had ever encountered.

"I will not take Sasuke as my next vessel," repeated Orochimaru. "You have my word."

Sakura took a moment to parse this last sentence, because he had worded it quite carefully. "And the vessel after that?"

There was a brief pause.

"That would be in a few years," said Orochimaru. "We'll consider that question when the time comes."

"I want a guarantee that you will not take Sasuke as a vessel _at all_ ," said Sakura. "Not just temporarily."

"I cannot do that."

"Then I refuse."

"Then you will die."

Sakura had been on the receiving end of death threats more times than she could count. But this statement of Orochimaru's was different – it wasn't even a threat, just a fact. There was such certainty to it, such casual finality, because he was powerful enough to end her life now, if he so chose…

She swallowed hard.

"If you kill me, Kimimaro will never be healed."

"I know this," said Orochimaru. "That is why you are still alive."

"How long will he last, as a vessel?"

"Three years," said Orochimaru with a shrug that set his lifeless arms swinging. "Perhaps four."

"And during that time, Sasuke will be free?"

"Yes," said Orochimaru.

"What about the seal?" asked Sakura, suddenly remembering the hideous mark and its effects on Sasuke's body and mind.

"The seal…" Orochimaru tilted his head and considered her. Again that unnatural tongue flicked out. "The seal stays."

"But –"

"I will not be making concessions on that front," said Orochimaru.

Sakura resisted the urge to shoot him a glare because, truth be told, Orochimaru hadn't been making any concessions whatsoever. This wasn't so much a negotiation as an information session for Sakura – here's what you do, or you die.

"Sasuke won't be _free_ ," said Sakura. "Not truly. Not with that seal."

"He will be free to go as he pleases and do as he wills, and his body will remain his for the next few years," said Orochimaru. "Really, girl – isn't that better than the alternative?"

It was, but it didn't make Sakura any more comfortable. She bit her lip as she mulled the arrangement over.

"I want to speak to Sasuke," said Sakura.

Something that very much looked like irritation flashed across Orochimaru's pale face, but it disappeared just as quickly. "That is… not possible at the moment."

Sakura looked up sharply. "Why?"

"Because we do not know where he is."

Sakura studied Orochimaru and decided to believe him, because that rapidly-quelled flare of irritation seemed very real.

"I see," said Sakura. "And… what happens if I fail to heal Kimimaro?"

"That would be an unfortunate outcome," said Orochimaru. "You would be – _disposed of_."

"And Sasuke would be used as your vessel."

"Precisely."

Sakura bit her lip. She really didn't like this so-called deal, but she liked the prospect of imminent death even less. "How long do I have to work on Kimimaro?"

For the first time since Sakura's audience with Orochimaru began, Kabuto spoke up.

"If I may…" said Kabuto, pushing up his glasses. "By my analysis, he has three or four months left. I've been able to slow his deterioration over the years, but not stop it. He'll be dead within half a year."

"I see," said Sakura. "And if I heal him successfully, will I be allowed to leave freely?"

"Of course," said Orochimaru.

Sakura could not hide the scepticism that coloured her gaze. Orochimaru's eyebrows contracted minutely when he noticed, so she headed off his annoyance with another inquiry before he decided to off her for questioning his word again.

"Will I have all the equipment necessary for potentially complex medical procedures?"

"Kabuto's laboratory is well supplied. He has also written extensive notes on the subject of Kimimaro's condition, which he will provide to you."

Sakura rubbed a finger along the bridge of her nose. With the proper materials, she was certain she could heal anything. Hopefully.

"Alright," said Sakura. "I accept to heal Kimimaro so that he is used as your next vessel instead of Sasuke, and so that I will be freed."

"Smart girl," said Orochimaru.

Sakura was repulsed to see his endless tongue exit his mouth and wrap around his right elbow. He lifted his dead arm towards her in a gesture that was a mockery of a handshake. Sakura hesitated, then took the proffered hand. It was cold, clammy and soft – a cadaver's handshake. She released it quickly.

"I am _quite_ pleased that we were able to come to such a cordial agreement," said Orochimaru. "Kabuto will show you to your rooms, the laboratory, and the patient's ward."

Sakura nodded stiffly. She found herself shaking from a slight adrenaline-fueled tremor, now that the threat of immediate death had been lifted.

"And before you go," said Orochimaru. "I would have you know that escape attempts would be… _unwise_. We are more than equipped to detect those here, you see, and it would go badly for you if you were to try."

"I understand."

"I am also forbidding you from attempting to communicate with the world beyond the Sound. You understand, of course. I cannot have a retrieval squad knocking at my door, it would put a – a slight damper on my plans."

Sakura blinked at him, because thoughts of sending a message had, of course, crossed her mind.

"Yes," said Sakura.

"Excellent," said Orochimaru. "We should get along marvellously. Kabuto – would you show Sakura to her rooms?"

Feeling more than slightly ill, Sakura followed Kabuto out of the audience chamber.

VVV

Sakura walked behind Kabuto in nervous silence as they made their way down endless wood-panelled corridors lit only by flickering torches. Each new turn brought them to a corridor so perfectly identical to the last that Sakura's mental map quickly became a useless jumble of crisscrossing passageways. Her sense of direction told her that they weren't going in circles, but her eyes did, and Sakura began to suspect that some crafty genjutsu was at work.

"Here we are," said Kabuto, gesturing to a door nestled into the woodwork.

Sakura followed him into the room. Like the remainder of Orochimaru's complex, it featured those intricately carved wooden walls; however, the flickering torches were superseded here by a single electric bulb hanging from the ceiling. The room was sparsely furnished: a cot occupied the bulk of the space, a rickety desk stacked with a few writing implements crouched in the corner, and a folding chair leaned against the wall.

Sakura glanced into the even more modest bathroom, with its small shower, sink, and threadbare towel hanging by a nail.

"Acceptable?" asked Kabuto.

"Yes," said Sakura, aware that anything she said would be reported back to Orochimaru and therefore not daring to complain about the accommodations.

"I had your things brought in," said Kabuto, showing Sakura where her bag was tucked into a corner. "Everything that was there when we – ah – _found_ you, is still there, minus the weapons and scrolls, for obvious reasons…"

Sakura quelled the flare of irritation that blazed at the thought of any Sound nin pawing through her possessions.

Kabuto noticed. He turned to look at her and surprised her by looking apologetic. "You understand."

The look was unexpected and Sakura was reminded of the long-ago days when she considered Kabuto a friend and ally. It was difficult to reconcile that Kabuto with this one, the one who was the right-hand man to an immortality-obsessed villain, and who, it was rumoured, conducted inhuman experiments on very human subjects…

"Of course," said Sakura. She nodded towards a door near the head of the cot. "What's through there?"

"Ah," said Kabuto, making his way there. "This way to the ward."

"The ward?" repeated Sakura. She followed him through and was surprised to find that the door did indeed lead to a dim room glowing with the flickering lights of medical equipment.

The layout struck Sakura as highly unusual. "Have you been planning this long?"

"When we first heard of you, it crossed our minds that such an arrangement might be favorable, yes," said Kabuto. "Orochimaru excels at long term planning. _Very_ long term…"

"I see," said Sakura. She suppressed the urge to shudder, understanding from reading between Kabuto's lines that she had been identified for this role a long time ago, and had probably been under surveillance for just as long, with her every move watched until they found a suitable moment to abduct her.

Kabuto lead Sakura into the dim sick room, where she had her first glance at her patient: she could make out the figure of an unmoving man on the bed, so still and thin that he might have been a corpse with a white sheet for a shroud, until she heard him take a slow, laborious breath.

"Lights seem to irritate him," said Kabuto. "We keep them to a minimum. Follow me through here."

"Is he conscious?" asked Sakura, glancing back at the figure.

"Rarely."

They passed through the ward into the laboratory on the other side. Kabuto closed the door behind them with a snap and switched on the light, flooding the laboratory with sterile white light.

As he walked Sakura through his materials and equipment, she found herself impressed at the operation that he had managed to set up in such a place. There was equipment here that she didn't even have access to at the Konoha General.

"And here," said Kabuto, pointing to a bookcase filled with binders and notebooks, "are all of my observations until this point. Some of these date back several years, when his illness first began to manifest itself. They are arranged in chronological order."

Kabuto pointed to some thick notebooks stacked onto a side table. "And these are more geared towards Kimimaro's personal history, his clan's medical history, and his bloodline limit and abilities as far as we know them."

"This is going to be very useful," said Sakura.

"Yes. Orochimaru decided that it would be best for you to have all the information that we could provide."

Sakura ran her fingertips along the spines of the dozens of brimming binders on the shelves, wondering how many of these she could get through a day.

Kabuto's voice interrupted her musings: "I will be holding… other duties while you fulfill this post."

"Oh?"

"Otogakure stuff," said Kabuto vaguely, pushing his glasses up with a knuckle. "I'll come and check on you and Kimimaro as often as I can."

"I'm going to be left alone with Orochimaru's prized vessel?" asked Sakura, surprised. "With no supervision?"

Kabuto studied her with his dark, intelligent eyes. "Those are my orders."

Seeing that Sakura's expression of mingled confusion and suspicion persisted, he continued: "Orochimaru has a high opinion of your integrity, you know. He says that Tsunade would never have made you her protégé if you didn't have – how did he put it? Oh yes – _insufferable amounts of moral rectitude_. I think he trusts that you're too principled to do anything you shouldn't. Like kill a half-dead man."

Kabuto gave Sakura a quick grin. For her part, Sakura wasn't sure whether or not to be flattered by this mostly-complimentary assessment, given its dubious provenance.

"And, of course," continued Kabuto, "if Kimimaro dies – or is _killed_ – your life is forfeit. And Sasuke becomes the next vessel. I think that you have the right – ah, _motivation_ – to do the right thing here."

"I see," said Sakura.

Kabuto studied her over his glasses for a moment. "So you're the medical lead on Kimimaro as of now. You can monitor and examine him at any time, and I'll answer any questions you have about him to the best of my ability. However, you are _not_ to undertake any invasive surgery or the like without coming to me first."

"I understand."

"I've been asked to take care of his food and hygiene needs, since those are tasks below the level of a medic-nin of your calibre."

Sakura raised her eyebrows. "You're hardly a junior nurse yourself, Kabuto."

Kabuto looked appreciative of the compliment, but nevertheless shook his head. "Orders are orders."

He led her back into the ward and paused for a moment in front of Kimimaro's bed.

"This is new for me, you know," said Kabuto. "I'm really not used to failing Orochimaru."

"You haven't failed," said Sakura, coming to a halt next to him. "If you had, Kimimaro wouldn't be alive."

"Still," said Kabuto, looking at the unmoving figure. His gaze hardened, as though the sick man was personally responsible for his failure.

After a pause that grew long enough for Sakura to become uncomfortable, they proceeded back to her room.

"I'm impressed by you, you know," said Kabuto. "You shouldn't even be standing right now, not with that dose of sedatives that we administered…"

Sakura shrugged noncommittally. "I can take care of myself."

"I can see that," said Kabuto. "Anyway – I guess you might take it amiss if I said to make yourself at home here, since you're not exactly here willingly… but I hope you'll find it comfortable enough. You'll get three square meals a day and I'm to offer you access to one of the courtyards if you behave yourself."

Sakura nodded, deciding that compliance was the best course of action for the moment.

"Okay," said Kabuto. "I'll be in touch. I'm locking this door – and yes, I know that you could smash it off of its hinges if you wanted to. So I'm warning you now that it's rigged with a barrier jutsu and an alarm jutsu."

"Duly noted," said Sakura, privately grateful for that extra bit of intel.

Kabuto gave her a polite little smile and closed the door. She heard the lock turn a moment later and then felt a minute flash of chakra as the jutsus were set.

VVV

With Kabuto gone, Sakura collapsed onto the cot and stared at the carved ceiling. She laid there for a long time, trying to make sense of the last 72 hours of her life. Hours which had been utter insanity – her return to Konoha from Suna was interrupted by a violent abduction, she was drugged, she was transported to a Sound base in an unknown location, and, just now, she had made a deal with the devil to save her childhood crush's life…

This last thought was what pulled Sakura out of her whirling confusion of memories and back to the present. She sat up and pressed her fingertips to her temples, deep in thought. Her options at this point were clear. Option one was blowing this popsicle stand. Sakura knew that she was bright and she had no doubt that she could, with careful planning, come up with a practicable escape plan. If successful, she could get back to Konoha and redouble her efforts to find Sasuke and warn him away from Orochimaru – but she, and the Leaf village's forces, had been trying to do _that_ for years, and failed utterly.

This option presented high risks and failure would endanger both herself and Sasuke. And Orochimaru was a goddamn genius – could she really eclipse his escape prevention measures, in his very own compound? Sakura bit her lip in a moment of self-doubt. Her other worry was that Orochimaru did actually have a sense of where Sasuke was and would be able to get to him and use him as a vessel before Sakura could reach him, if she broke the terms of their bargain and made a break for it.

So, option two. The alternative was to abide by her deal with Orochimaru, at least for now. It was the lower-risk option, as far as Sakura could see: there was no escape attempt to botch up and subsequently get killed for, and, looking into the medium-term, Sakura knew that her life was more or less safe as long as she was useful to Orochimaru; that is, as long as this guy Kimimaro was being healed.

And most of all, adhering to the terms of the deal would buy Sakura _time_. Time for her to come up with some other more viable plan, perhaps – but more importantly, time for her disappearance to be noticed by the Leaf. Because when the Fifth realized that Sakura had been kidnapped, she would move heaven and earth to get her back.

Knowing her mentor's thunderous temper as she did, Sakura suspected that Tsunade might just eradicate Otogakure out of fury at Orochimaru's audacity in abducting Konoha's most cherished kunoichi for his own purposes.

Sakura drifted into a beautiful daydream of Tsunade bulldozing through the Sound's walls with her Strength of a Hundred Seal released, of Naruto and Kakashi flying in behind her with jutsus of wind and lighting ablaze in their fists, of Konoha's famed shinobi launching in after them, of Orochimaru and Kabuto receiving a massive and well-deserved beat-down…

Yes. Overall, option two was the more practicable one right now, and not only because she wanted to see that beat-down. She wouldn't risk a failed escape attempt and Orochimaru's subsequent wrath, she would guarantee herself some security by working on Kimimaro and keeping herself valuable in the snake-sannin's eyes, and she would give Tsunade time to put together a retrieval team.

Sakura therefore turned her attention to the task at hand. For the next few weeks, these three rooms – her quarters, the ward, and the laboratory – were her domain. Goal: heal the Sound nin in the next room and get the hell out of here alive.

Sakura's first instinct when faced with a problem was hitting the books – and so she made her way to the laboratory, where she stacked up a first series of binders. Glancing at her watch – it was 7:00 p.m. – Sakura figured on about six hours' worth of learning before sleep claimed her. She was far too wound up to try to rest right now anyway; adrenaline lingered in her system and her chakra was still fighting the effects of whatever drug Kabuto had hit her with to knock her out.

As Sakura passed through the ward on her way back to her room, hefting the notes, the sound of Kimimaro's strained breathing caused her to slow her steps. Now that she was alone, the sound disturbed her. This shinobi had been reported dead years ago…

Suppressing a shudder, Sakura slipped into her own room and shut the door, having decided not to undertake any physical examinations of the man before she knew exactly what she was dealing with.

The next few hours passed in a blur of information absorption. Sakura began with a review of this Kimimaro Kaguya guy's personal history, expecting a more-or-less generic biography with a few tragedies thrown in, as in the life of any young shinobi. Instead, she found herself reading a tale of such vicious abuse and hardship that it made her wonder what kind of man – or monster – was slowly dying in the next room.

Though Kabuto's record was written with the objective, clinical coldness typical of those in the medical field, Sakura felt a twinge of empathy while reading about Kimimaro's childhood, which had apparently passed in a horrific sequence of violence, imprisonment, and more violence. She learned that, as a child, he had been used as a weapon by his clan – unleashed on enemies when his powers were required, but otherwise kept caged with minimal human contact in deplorable conditions.

It had altogether been a very sad existence. Kabuto's notes indicated that Orochimaru had first encountered Kimimaro at around age 13, befriended him, and eventually discovered that Kimimaro was powerful enough to make a very desirable vessel. It was at that point that Orochimaru had _bestowed_ (Sakura wrinkled her nose at Kabuto's word choice) the cursed earth seal upon Kimimaro. And then Kimimaro had begun to manifest the beginnings of the illness that now threatened his life…

Sakura closed the binder and passed a hand over her face; she had not expected quite such heavy reading… nor had she expected to feel this nascent sense of pity for the enemy ninja in the next room.

Hoping for something lighter, she reached for the next file, which was dedicated to Kimimaro's bloodline limit.

" _Shikotsumyaku –_ Dead Bone Pulse," whispered Sakura, rolling the unfamiliar, and slightly morbid, word on her tongue.

Sakura fairly devoured Kabuto's notes on Kimimaro's bloodline limit; the ability to manipulate one's entire skeleton was absolutely fascinating to her from a professional standpoint. She learned that, as the last living descendent of the Kaguya clan, Kimimaro was the only remaining living practitioner of the Shikotsumyaku. From a medical and biological perspective, he was therefore a priceless rarity, even moreso, as Kabuto pointed out in a scrawled sidebar note, than the Uchiha clan, who at least had two living males to carry on the bloodline.

A detailed analysis of Kimimaro's attacks and defenses followed, which, Sakura thought ruefully, would have been tremendously useful to Naruto, Lee and Gaara when they had fought the guy so many years ago. Her attention was riveted by Kabuto's description of one of Kimimaro's special weapons, his spinal whip – how the man continued to function, much less fight, when his spine was _in his hand_ was beyond Sakura's imagination. Kimimaro was also listed as a taijutsu prodigy and master swordsman. Sakura skimmed through the paragraphs about his clan's traditional sword dances with their unexpectedly pretty names – the dance of the larch, the dance of the pines, the dance of the camellia, the dance of the seedling fern…

Kimimaro's healing powers intrigued her. In Kabuto's words, he was a freak of nature – he didn't use chakra to heal, or at least, not consciously. Each time his skin was pierced, whether by one of his own bones or an enemy's blade, he healed almost immediately. He also had the ability to grow a virtually impenetrable defensive bone layer under his skin.

Having reviewed Kimimaro's abilities, Sakura could understand why he was so attractive to Orochimaru as a vessel: Orochimaru was obsessed with regeneration, second skins, cheating death – and even the Sharingan, with all of its advantages, did not confer those powers…

The extreme lengths that Orochimaru had gone to, to keep Kimimaro alive over the years, were also now making sense – devoting untold hours of Kabuto's expertise to him, putting together the well-equipped lab, this whole carefully planned set-up in the Sound base, and Sakura's own abduction…

It was almost counter-intuitive, but this realization was a comfort to Sakura, because it meant that, for now, she was valuable to Orochimaru. Right now, she was in a way a priceless rarity herself; one of the few (if not the only one) who could possibly heal his precious vessel.

Sakura looked up from the notes and took a deep breath.

For now, she was _safe_.

For the first time in 72 hours, Sakura allowed herself to sit back. She dropped her shoulders and felt some tension ease off as she lost herself in staring at the carved lines in the wall across from her. This was good. This was a positive development. If she did manage to heal Kimimaro, Orochimaru would most certainly be using him as his next vessel, and so Sasuke would be protected for the next few years, which bought her more time to find him and knock some sense into him…

Her eyes dry from too much reading, Sakura washed up and quit for the night, her brain abuzz with new information and just a little glimmer of hope.

VVV


	2. Chapter 2

Over the course of the next few days, Sakura continued her studying. The heavy files containing Kabuto's notes on Kimimaro's illness were both engrossing and a little worrisome, because even if he was an enemy, Sakura could admit that Kabuto was an extremely talented medic-nin. His failure to successfully treat this illness made her uneasy. She fervently hoped that she would be up to the task; healing Kimimaro was her one ticket out of here…

Sakura learned that Kimimaro's primary affliction was some sort of degenerative lung disease. Kabuto's notes included detailed lists of all of the symptoms presented by Kimimaro, categorized by alphabetical order, which Sakura soaked up avidly, cross-referencing them with the pulmonary maladies that she had herself treated or read about over the years. She scrawled out notes, dumb ideas, smart ideas, flow charts, checklists, and thoughts as she went, trying to find an angle, something big or small, that Kabuto might have missed…

As she finished her third read-through of Kabuto's notes on Kimimaro's illness to make sure that she hadn't missed anything, Sakura began take note of a gradual shift in his tone, which started out, in the earlier sections, hopeful and curious, then grew more doubtful as, over months, and then years, his initial diagnoses and healing attempts proved unfruitful. His growing frustration and fatigue with Kimimaro's disease became more and more obvious as it became clear that, even with all of his skill, Kabuto could only manage to keep Kimimaro alive (and barely) and do nothing about his illness, despite his best attempts, and Orochimaru's growing anxiety and displeasure…

Sakura bit her lip as she read, hoping that she would not be in the same boat.

Then she shook her head, almost hearing Tsunade's voice chastising her for her self-doubt. She wouldn't be in the same boat. Kabuto was excellent – but Sakura was _extraordinary_.

She read on. Kabuto also documented some minor problems that Kimimaro had with skin irritation and, more troubling, vaguely-described 'psychological issues.' These Sakura set aside for now; she was here to heal the man's physical ailments if she could – she was certainly not a qualified psychiatrist.

A knock on the door interrupted Sakura's study. Kabuto entered, bearing a tray of food.

"Day four," said Kabuto by way of greeting. "… I hope you're not getting sick of our cooking. It's tricky to source fresh stuff for a hideout."

Sakura looked up from her reading and blinked at him. This was an attempt at friendly conversation on Kabuto's part – one of several that he had made in the past few days. However, Sakura was herself quite torn on how to behave with him now that she had more-or-less settled in. On one hand, she wanted to be cold and bitchy, because she was here against her will and being forced to heal an enemy soldier, and Kabuto was himself an enemy.

On the other hand, Kabuto had truly been nothing but accommodating to her since her arrival, and she knew that _he_ could definitely be an asshole when he wanted to be, so perhaps… perhaps bland politeness was the best policy.

"It's fine," said Sakura civilly. "I really don't care, as long as it's edible."

"I'm told that it's _mostly_ edible," said Kabuto.

Sakura smiled politely at his joke.

He glanced around the room, taking in the masses of files and notes piled high on the desk, the floor, the cot. "I see you're getting some use out of those records."

"Yes," said Sakura. "You're very thorough."

Kabuto seemed gratified at the compliment. "Thanks."

"It'll take me a few more days to get through them all," said Sakura. "And then I'll be ready to take a look at him myself. I'm quite curious, actually – and knowing that his condition has stumped you for so long makes me even more curious…"

"I hope you have better luck than I did," said Kabuto, looking at her from behind his glasses with a carefully neutral expression.

"I hope so too," said Sakura with a politeness that belied the fact that she was thinking, _because I want to get out of here and not die at the hands of you Sound bastards_.

He must have read something of her unspoken thought in her expression. "You have the right – uh, _incentive_ – to find a solution. Hopefully it's enough."

Sakura returned to her reading and did not answer.

"Well," said Kabuto, placing the tray at the foot of her cot, which was the only surface uncluttered by notes. "If there's nothing else, I'll leave you to it?"

Sakura had turned away and was already engrossed in her reading, a pencil clasped between her teeth.

"Mm hm… you consistently misspell 'pneumocyte'," she muttered absently, more to herself than him.

Kabuto's left eyebrow twitched. "…Thank you."

"Welcome," said Sakura, already far away.

VVV

It took Sakura a few more days to be satisfied with her knowledge base. Now, armed with information, tentative theories, and burning curiosity, she was ready to actually look at the patient himself.

"I'll inform Orochimaru," said Kabuto when she told him.

"That's fine," said Sakura, pulling her hair into a bun to keep it out of her face. "But don't get his hopes up. I'm beginning my own observations – not healing."

"Understood," said Kabuto.

He followed her into the ward as she made her way towards the motionless figure in the bed.

If it wasn't for the weak breathing whistling in and out of the man's lungs in irregular intervals, Sakura would have thought she was looking at a corpse. Scratch that, she had seen bodies at the morgue that looked more lively…

Sakura switched on a lamp to get a better look at him. Kimimaro was perhaps the palest living human that she had ever seen. His white hair, drawn to the side in a loose pony tail, only accentuated the look. His face might have been handsome once – but now it was gaunt, and his deeply sunken cheeks and bloodless lips told of prolonged illness and suffering.

Kimimaro's forehead was adorned by two red dots just above his eyebrows. His eyelids were enhanced by similar coloring. These were some sort of Kaguya clan markings denoting rank, according to Kabuto's notes. They appeared gradually as clan members aged and gained power, a sign of the bloodline that coursed through their veins.

Sakura slipped off Kimimaro's sheets, taking note as she did so that everything was impeccably crisp and clean, right down to the loose boxer-type shorts that Kimimaro wore. She nodded her approval to Kabuto.

Kimimaro's chest was lined by deep grooves between his ribs, though it must have been well-muscled at some point in time. Just below his collarbone, the black mark of Orochimaru's cursed seal marred his otherwise white skin. Like his chest, his arms and legs showed hints of previous musculature which had atrophied through illness and disuse.

Sakura noted all of these things almost in passing – because what riveted her attention the most, this close to the man, was his breathing. Each breath was drawn as if it was his very last. He was fighting a losing battle for his life.

His survival was the key to hers, and hell if she would be the one to let him die.

Sakura cracked her knuckles (a habit that enraged Tsunade, back in her apprentice days) and pumped chakra to her hands.

"I'm going to run a couple of diagnostic scans," she told Kabuto. "Circulatory system, nervous system, musculoskeletal structure… just to see how everything is holding up with those failing lungs of his."

She pressed her palms to the bony chest and let her chakra flow into Kimimaro's blood. Her eyes lost their focus on the world around her as she immersed herself in her chakra, flowing through veins and arteries where his blood pumped altogether too slowly for her liking…

Sakura pulled out half an hour later. "Other than a kind of sluggishness – that I don't like at all – his circulatory system is quite healthy. No clots, no plaques, no major issues…"

She turned away, only half-hearing Kabuto's answer because her palms were back on Kimimaro's chest, and then she was in him, flying from his brain to the tips of his toes across a maze of neural pathways and clusters of axons far thicker than anything she had seen before…

"Wow," said Sakura when she blinked and came back to the real world some time later. "He must have had amazing reflexes, when he was healthy."

"How do you know that?"

"The density of nerves at the surface of his skin – it's incredible. I've never seen anything like it."

"Well, I've never seen anyone whose chakra control was so refined that they could see that through a scan," said Kabuto, looking impressed.

Sakura shrugged and looked at her hands. "Let's just say you probably picked the right person for this job. Not that I'm condoning your actions, mind you."

"Of course," said Kabuto. He considered her over his glasses with a small smile. "And yes, you're right – he did have incredible reflexes. It was kind of uncanny, actually. He was an outstanding shinobi."

Scanning Kimimaro's skeletal structure gave Sakura a little more trouble, principally because his bones were so strange. They were thicker than normal ones, around three times as dense, and packed with minerals. Sakura found that she could hardly worm her chakra into them to do basic imaging. The spongy bone tissue at the tips of his bones was as compressed as a normal person's _compact_ bone tissue – and his compact bone tissue was akin to concrete. All throughout his skeleton, his nutrient canals were piled high with reserve minerals, something that was most definitely linked to his Shikotsumyaku. Sakura had never seen the like before and spent long moments studying the unusual phenomenon.

By the end of the day, Sakura was exhausted but satisfied. She was filling in gaps in Kabuto's notes when he came by her room with dinner.

"I'll focus on his lungs tomorrow," said Sakura. "I didn't find any signs of the skin irritation issue you mentioned."

"It flares up now and again," said Kabuto, sliding the tray of food onto her desk. "I suspect it might be because of his habit of breaking his skin constantly to use his bones, but anyway – right now, he has much worse issues to deal with."

"Mm. I'll keep an eye out for it."

Kabuto glanced over Sakura's shoulder, where she was compiling her own record of her observations that day.

"You discovered more in a day's worth of work than I have working on him for several years."

"I know," said Sakura. "My chakra control allows me to do things that most medic-nin can't."

"Orochimaru will be pleased."

"Pleased enough that I've earned that courtyard privilege you mentioned?" asked Sakura. "I need to see the sun."

Kabuto nodded. "That can definitely be arranged."

VVV

Sakura's scan of Kimimaro's lungs took three days to finish. They were long days, and exhausting, punctuated only by breaks for meals and sanity-walks in the dusty courtyard.

On the first day, Sakura's primary diagnosis was that Kimimaro's lungs were, to put it bluntly, completely fucked. She swabbed his mouth and trachea and spent the evening observing sputum cultures under one of the microscopes in the lab, which alerted her to an ongoing infection in his lungs on top of his disease. By the evening of the third day, having comprehensively scanned every last inch of his pulmonary system, Sakura's final diagnosis was that his lungs were _even more_ completely fucked.

She did not, however, write this in her notes, as such lapses in professionalism would be _quite_ unbecoming for a medic-nin of her calibre. Instead, she asked Kabuto for some anatomical tomes, which she hefted onto her desk and studied for long hours, refreshing her knowledge of the lungs and looking for ways to heal all of the things that were wrong with Kimimaro's.

Of all the illnesses that he could have, it _had_ to be the lungs. One of the most delicate, fragile, and yet essential parts of his body…

But Sakura's perfect chakra control meant that she excelled at delicate tasks, and this was where she hoped she would be able to succeed where Kabuto had failed.

On the third day, Sakura discussed her findings with Kabuto late into the night, perched on her chair surrounded by stacks of books while he sat politely on the edge of her cot.

"It presents like pulmonary tuberculosis but his symptoms don't quite line up," said Sakura. "I agree with you that it's some kind of chronic degenerative disease – and that topped by that bacterial infection I found that's creating all of that gunk in his lungs makes this a pretty nasty combination. I plan to start by removing that buildup."

"Will you need a hand?"

"Yes," said Sakura. "It's probably going to be messy. Once we've taken care of the infection and that seepage clogging up his lungs, I'll be able to see the damage more clearly. Then we'll know if he even has a chance to make it…"

Kabuto looked at her seriously. "I hope it's good news. For your sake."

"Yeah," said Sakura, rubbing her forehead. "No pressure or anything."

Kabuto looked almost apologetic for a second.

"Hey. I'm not going to worry until I actually _have_ to worry," said Sakura. She gestured towards one of the walls in her room. "You know what would be helpful, though – do you think you could set up a monitoring system here? I'd like to keep an eye on his vitals while I'm doing paperwork. The last thing I want is for him to expire while I'm off reading something…"

Kabuto studied the wall. "That should be feasible."

"Good," said Sakura. Then, because her tone was very Tsunade-ish, she added, "thank you."

"You're very welcome," said Kabuto with a small smile.

VVV

The operation went moderately well. It was infuriatingly slow going to cleanse out Kimimaro's infection as every single alveolar lumen had to be purged (in the most delicate, gentle sense of the term). Very few people in the world would have had the chakra control required to even attempt this operation, much less do it successfully.

However, Sakura was not one of the top medics in the world for nothing. Sinking into an almost meditative state, she immersed herself into Kimimaro's ruined lungs and patiently extracted bacteria, phlegm and other debris, section by minute section, for hours on end. Kabuto stood at her side, monitoring Kimimaro's vitals on the screens and operating the little pump that gently sucked the waste out of Kimimaro's trachea.

They took a break for a very late lunch – not because Sakura was hungry, but because her hands were cramping and her neck was seizing up – and they continued late into the evening.

Sakura breathed a sigh of relief when she finished cleansing the last square inch of Kimimaro's right lung and the last sputter of phlegm was sucked out of his windpipe by the pump.

"Sakura…? You're shaking," came Kabuto's concerned voice.

Sakura blinked and withdrew her chakra from the near-lifeless body in front of her. She looked at her hands.

"Chakra exhaustion," said Kabuto. "You should–"

"I'm a medic," snapped Sakura, drained and a little bitchy for it. "Don't you think I know what I should do?"

Kabuto raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm – sorry," said Sakura, suddenly remembering that this was a dangerous enemy shinobi she was talking to, not a subordinate nurse. "I get cranky when I'm tired."

"I can see that," said Kabuto. "I was wondering when we'd see your famed temper flare. They say it matches Tsunade's."

"Oh, she is much, _much_ worse," said Sakura, holding her hands together to still the shaking. "She would have flung you into the wall for offending her with your suggestion."

"Ah. Well then. Thanks for not flinging me."

"I try," said Sakura.

She watched Kabuto collect the three little sacs full of the gunk that she had purged from Kimimaro's lungs. She wrinkled her nose at them from under her surgical mask.

"You need to dispose of those carefully. It hasn't demonstrated a tendency towards contagiousness, but I'd rather err on the side of caution…"

"I will."

Sakura pulled the sheets back over Kimimaro's pale chest. "Is it just me, or does his breathing sound better already?"

Both medic-nin paused to listen. The breaths that rattled in the silence were still irregular, and still strained – but Kimimaro no longer sounded like he was drowning in his own lungs.

"Orochimaru will be _very_ pleased," said Kabuto, looking extremely pleased himself.

"Don't overstate my progress to him," said Sakura. "We need to manage his expectations, here – some parts of Kimimaro's lungs felt like they were beyond healing while I was in there today. I'll be able to evaluate the damage properly tomorrow, now that he's not all clogged up."

"It would be hard to overstate your progress," said Kabuto with a definite hint of admiration. "It's leaps and bounds beyond mine, anyway…"

He studied her from behind his glasses for a moment. "You sure you don't want to work for Otogakure? Orochimaru rewards his faithful well."

Sakura scoffed as she made her way to her quarters. " _Very_ sure. His rewards don't interest me."

"Even for the sake of advancing science?"

Sakura paused in the doorway, then turned to look at Kabuto. She had heard the rumours, of course, that he had a collection of subjects upon which he and Orochimaru carried out unspeakable experiments…

She decided that she preferred not to open that can of worms right now.

"No. Goodnight, Kabuto."

Kabuto shrugged, as if this was her loss. Sakura was reminded that, despite his overall friendliness, he was still very much a criminal with extremely questionable morals.

Shutting the door behind her, Sakura made for her bathroom, where she took a long shower. She closed her eyes as she rinsed and was annoyed to find that, behind her closed eyelids, there danced visions of bronchioles and alveoli, and the sound of the little pump seemed to ring in her ears…

She dried off and collapsed onto her bed, feeling the day's fatigue in her bones – she had definitely overdone it a bit today. It had been a long time since she had come this close to chakra depletion. But right now, it was worth it. Worth it because it meant that she could dedicate tomorrow entirely to assessing Kimimaro's lungs unobstructed, and perhaps start to truly heal him; worth it because it gave his tissues time to recover from the irritation of her foreign chakra overnight before she pervaded his system again in the morning; worth it because she could be out of here one day earlier, maybe…

Worth it because Kimimaro was breathing again, and to the medic in Sakura – the neutral healer, unimpeded by dogma or political intrigues, whose driving impulse was only to cure – that was the most important thing.

Sakura reached for the light switch, muffling a groan as she did so because her shoulders were painfully tight – and then she lay in the dark, kneading at her neck, wondering when sleep would come.

A small, and perhaps naive, part of her brain was also wondering when _someone_ would come: by now, two weeks in, Konoha would most definitely have noticed her disappearance. By now, messages would have been sent back and forth between Leaf and Sand to confirm Sakura's last known whereabouts. Tsunade would be informed, and probably worrying, or maybe not worrying, yet, because at this stage plausible explanations could still justify Sakura's disappearance – perhaps she had been sidetracked by a seriously ill person encountered on the road, or perhaps she had hit Sasuke's trail by some happy chance, and everyone was expecting a message from her any day now…

But there would be no message. Not for a while, anyway. So _sometime_ in the near future Tsunade would put together a retrieval squad – Kiba and his trackers, and one of the Hyuugas, probably, and of course Kakashi and Naruto would argue their way onto the team…

And they would come and get her, and save her, and all would be well.

This thought set Sakura into relative peace as she drifted to sleep.

VVV

"What did you find?"

Sakura had just pulled her hands away from Kimimaro's chest and was shaking her head.

"The damage is extensive. I can barely believe what I'm seeing in there," said Sakura, trying not to allow the hopelessness that she felt show too clearly in her face. "He must've been breathing at maybe 18 percent of his normal capacity, before I cleaned him out. And his lungs are in ruins – I suspected that they were, but now I _know_ it. Everything I'm seeing tells me that his body should have shut down long ago."

She stared at Kimimaro, who breathed rattly defiance at her precious science with every exhalation. "I'm honestly surprised that he's alive right now, and has been alive for all this time."

"He has a strong will to live," said Kabuto. "His loyalty to Orochimaru is unsurpassed."

Sakura shook her head. "Normally I wouldn't even attempt to heal him at this stage. He should be a vegetable on a respirator by now – but, somehow, he's not. So maybe that will to live will be enough, that and my skillset, and, damn it, maybe we should _pray_ , too, while we're at it…"

Kabuto's look of concern gave way to a smirk at this sardonic final suggestion. "I'll pray to all of the gods I believe in."

Sakura looked at him with tired eyes. "Let me guess. Zero?"

"Unfortunately."

"Well then," said Sakura, taking a deep breath. "If there aren't any gods to help us, I'd better get cracking. I'm going to want to put him on some antibiotics after this – think you can find me some rifampicin or isoniazid?"

"On it," said Kabuto. "And I'll inform Orochimaru of your findings. He'll want to know."

"Tell him I'm attempting an almost full reconstruction of Kimimaro's lungs," said Sakura as she slipped on her surgical mask. "Tell him I'm attempting a miracle."

"I will. And, seriously – good luck."

"Thanks," said Sakura. Not that she believed in luck, but.

"The black button there – hit that if you need me," said Kabuto as he exited the room. "I'll come running."

"Understood."

Kabuto shut the door behind him. Sakura cracked her knuckles and studied Kimimaro's white chest, rising and falling with only slightly more ease than in the previous days.

She pushed chakra to her palms. And she prayed to whatever gods might be listening.

VVV

So Sakura began the obscenely, agonizingly slow process of reconstructing Kimimaro's ruined lungs. Every day for a week, she pushed herself almost to the brink of chakra exhaustion as she reformed individual alveoli on a cellular level, scoured out phlegm and bacteria that she had missed, and built up new microstructures from where there was only rotted tissue and debris.

She had undertaken a similar operation only once before, on a Leaf ninja who had been impaled between the ribs and who had lost the interior lobe of one of his lungs – but that had been an operation on an otherwise perfectly healthy subject, not one whose lungs and body had deteriorated over years and years. Still, the experience helped her immensely here; at least she wasn't attempting this for the first time ever in possibly the most precarious situation she had ever been in in her life.

In the evenings she took it easy to allow her chakra to regenerate in the 12 hours till the next session – reading, eating, wondering where the hell the Leaf retrieval team was, sleeping troubled sleeps…

"Wow," said Kabuto one morning when he came into the ward. He took off his glasses, cleaned them, and put them back on. "Wow."

"I know," said Sakura, turning to the screen that he was staring at in disbelief. "Heart rate almost normal, breathing almost normal…"

"Damn. You pulled off your miracle," said Kabuto. "Orochimaru is going to be very happy."

"I should hope so," said Sakura, allowing herself a grin. She pointed to a scan of Kimimaro's lungs that hung on an x-ray film viewer. "And did you see this? 88 percent capacity now."

"I'm very impressed."

Sakura looked away, still smiling. "Thank you. I'm glad. It's been quite an experience."

Kabuto leaned over Kimimaro's bed, studying his white face. "When do you think he'll be conscious?"

"Honestly, any time now," said Sakura. "Maybe a day… maybe hours."

"Incredible," said Kabuto with an appreciative glance at Sakura.

They stood together and watched the figure on the bed take slow, easy breaths.

"The courtyard is free for another walk outside, if you'd like," said Kabuto after a beat.

"Yes, please," said Sakura.

Kabuto held the door for her as she stepped out. Sakura thought she felt his eyes linger on her for an unusual length of time, but then, she was also very tired, and it might have been just her imagination.

VVV

(Art by the glorious Matilda)


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Sakura was in the ward making a few notes on Kimimaro's progress when she was suddenly aware of another presence in the room. She glanced around, assuming that it was Kabuto – until a whisper behind her made her jump.

"Who are you?"

Sakura turned to see that Kimimaro was awake, with his eyes open and focused on her. Their brightness startled her – she hadn't given much, if any, thought to the colour of his eyes, but she certainly hadn't expected them to be green like her own, though perhaps a shade darker.

"Oh – hello! I'm Sakura Haruno," said Sakura, collecting herself and assuming the bearing of the medical professional that she was. "I've been taking care of you for a while."

Kimimaro closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, as though gathering his nerve. When he opened his eyes again, he regarded her with a kind of bland fatalism. "How long do I have left?"

His voice was still a whisper; his vocal chords were desiccated by disuse.

Sakura smiled what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Quite a long time, if my calculations are correct."

Kimimaro's fine eyebrows raised a fraction of an inch and, briefly, he radiated incredulity.

"I've healed your lungs," said Sakura. "And you're going to be fine."

Kimimaro said nothing, though he fixed her with a disbelieving stare.

"You don't believe me, do you?" said Sakura. "Try taking some breaths."

She watched Kimimaro's attention shift from her to his own breathing. His pale chest rose and fell slowly as his ribcage expanded and contracted without a hitch or a gurgle or a sickly cough.

"Can you feel the difference?" asked Sakura.

He paused before answering her. "I can."

Sakura smiled at him. He stared at her in silence.

"You did this?" he asked after a long moment.

"Yes," said Sakura. "I was – um, _brought in_ – just for you. I'm a specialist in medical ninjutsu."

Sakura watched him collect his strength to speak again. "They told me… they told me it was incurable."

"I can understand your scepticism, then," said Sakura with a smile. "But you just needed the right medic on the case."

"Oh."

Again his green stare found her gaze. Sakura sustained it for as long as she could, waiting for him to say something more, but he didn't. The silence grew uncomfortably long.

"So – Kabuto's around," said Sakura. "Would you like me to call him?"

"… Yes," said Kimimaro.

Sakura was quite happy to hit the button that Kabuto had pointed out to her, and even gladder to hear his hurried footsteps running along the hall. Kabuto poked his head into the ward and noticed with obvious surprise that Kimimaro was awake.

"Thank you," he said to Sakura. "Would you give us a moment?"

Sakura nodded and left the room, leaving the two men to discuss whatever it is that potential vessels and right-hand men talk about. Wanting some fresh air, she made her way to the little courtyard that her good behaviour had granted her access to and sat on the dusty steps in the sunshine.

She took in the high walls around her, the doors leading to dark places, the shimmer of chakra-sensing barriers flickering at the edge of her awareness, and hoped that this would be the last time she sat here. Because she had done it – she had cured Kimimaro. And now he was awake, he was conscious, and he was going to live, and if Orochimaru was a man of his word, then she would be out of here very soon…

VVV

Sakura had a meeting with Orochimaru that night, only the second since she had arrived in Otogakure. She followed Kabuto into the audience chamber, her emotions roiling in an uneasy mixture of fear and hope.

Dread knotted itself into a tight ball in the pit of her stomach as Orochimaru's black figure detached itself from the shadows in the audience hall. His chakra-masking skills were so impeccable that Sakura hadn't even suspected that he had arrived yet. This subtle demonstration of his skill made her even more anxious – prey in the face of a snake.

"Sakura," said Orochimaru, advancing towards her as if to shake her hand, or embrace her, but of course he could do neither of those things with his dead arms.

Sakura took an involuntary step back. "Orochimaru. I've – I've healed Kimimaro's lungs. And he's conscious again. Kabuto will be able to confirm it."

"So I've heard," said Orochimaru. He smirked, having noticed her retreat and apparently finding it amusing. "It's nothing short of a _miracle_ , or so I'm told."

The undertone of mockery in his words was enough to rile up some of Sakura's ire – not enough for her temper to flare, but enough for it to replace that knot of dread with a glowing ember of anger.

"I trust that you haven't forgotten your end of the deal," said Sakura. "When can I leave?"

Orochimaru's eyes glittered at her, fool's gold in the dark.

"Of course," said Orochimaru. "You will be able to leave when I have a suitable vessel."

"What… what exactly do you mean?" asked Sakura.

"My dear," said Orochimaru, as though he was talking to a particularly dense child. "Do you really think that I would transfer my soul into the body of a boy who cannot even get out of his bed?"

Sakura blinked at him. That was a fair point – but it was also _not her problem_. She had agreed to heal Kimimaro's ostensibly incurable disease, nothing more.

"Kabuto is more than qualified enough to take on Kimimaro's follow-up care," said Sakura.

"Kabuto is also very _busy_ ," said Orochimaru with a look over his shoulder at the man in question, who was leaning against a shadowy pillar some distance away. "And given that I have a resource such as yourself available, I won't squander it. You understand, of course."

Sakura clenched her jaw. She understood, alright. She understood that he was a manipulative asshole who was squeezing more out of her than originally agreed.

But she also understood was not exactly in a strong position to negotiate, here.

Sakura grit her teeth. "I understand. Despite the fact that this wasn't part of our original – agreement – I will continue to take care of _the boy_ until he's able to get out of bed."

"No," said Orochimaru. "Until he is able to walk. Run. Fight. He must be in peak condition – I can't take him any other way."

Sakura tilted her head at him; she understood why he wouldn't _want_ to take a half-dead body, but from there to _can't_ …?

"The soul-transfer technique is quite – ah – _traumatic_ , both for me and my new host," said Orochimaru. "His body will need to be fighting fit to ensure that it survives the ordeal. I cannot risk failure."

This was new information to Sakura, information that he hadn't bothered to disclose on their first meeting. The little ember of anger in her chest threatened to flare up but she subdued it: this was not the time for her to be losing her temper, even though she very much wanted to – that would probably result in her losing her life.

She had little choice but to accept this additional assignment, as much as it aggravated her to do so.

"Fine," said Sakura after stewing in these thoughts for a long moment. "Fighting fit. And then I'm out of here."

"Excellent," said Orochimaru with a satisfied nod. "I am so glad that he is in your capable hands."

He moved as though to turn away and one of his lifeless bandaged arms caught flickering torchlight. Sakura noticed a slow seep of black-rotted blood coming through the white wrappings.

"Yes," said Orochimaru softly when he caught her gaze. "Your capable hands, because my own hands are not so capable right now. So you will understand that I do not want to take a half-dead body. I already have one of _those_ , you see."

"I do see," said Sakura. Part of her wanted to ask Orochimaru why he hadn't gotten Kabuto to amputate his dead arms before the rot overtook his body – but that was the healer in her, and right now, she was a Leaf kunoichi, and that part of her wanted him to die, the more painfully, the better.

Sakura caught a brief hesitation before Orochimaru spoke again: "While I have you here, my dear – how long you think it will take, to have Kimimaro fully healthy?"

"This is an extensive rehabilitation we're talking about," said Sakura. "He's skin and bones right now, held together only by his will to serve you. It could be months – half a year, maybe."

Sakura hated the words as soon as they came out of her mouth: though they were true, she was probably sealing herself in the Sound for just about that long as well.

" _Half a year?_ " repeated Orochimaru. His tone was incredulous and Sakura did not like it.

"Yes," said Sakura. Then, because he was staring at her like she was being ridiculous, she added, "ask Kabuto."

Orochimaru gave Kabuto a look. Kabuto gave a hesitant shrug, which ticked Sakura off tremendously, because she knew that he knew that he was right, but of course, he wouldn't risk Orochimaru's wrath and confirm it, the weasel…

"I cannot wait for half a year," said Orochimaru with a dangerous kind of gentleness.

"I can't rush rehabilitation," said Sakura, holding her hands up. "Do you know how much physical therapy he's going to need, to build him back up to fighting fit?"

Orochimaru stared at her as though he couldn't quite believe that she was still arguing with him.

"I don't take well to _contrarians_ , Sakura."

"Well it's a good thing I'm not a contrarian, then," said Sakura, crossing her arms. "I'm a realist."

There was distinct irritation in the way that Orochimaru turned to his second-in-command. "Kabuto – you will help her. We must expedite this."

"I don't need _help_ ," said Sakura, annoyed at the very suggestion. "This is only one patient. I run a whole hospital wing on a good day, and a whole hospital on a bad day – believe me, I can handle Kimimaro on my own. What I need is _time_."

"Three months," said Orochimaru.

"Impossible."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura saw Kabuto slink further behind his pillar.

Sakura did not like the way that Orochimaru was looking at her, nor did she like the slow shuffle that he was making towards her that set his lifeless arms swaying.

She stood her ground this time and he came close enough that his sickly white face filled her field of vision. "You will do your utmost to heal him in that timeframe. You will do your utmost to do the _impossible_."

"But –"

"If you cannot," hissed Orochimaru, "you leave me no choice but to use dear _Sasuke_. You understand?"

" _What?!_ " said Sakura. "I thought you said you didn't know where he was…?"

"I don't know where the little bugger is. But now," said Orochimaru, his venomous golden gaze boring into hers, "I have a real incentive to find him. And you therefore have a real incentive to fix Kimimaro in time. So _do it_."

Sakura thought, briefly, that he was going to attack her, so strong was the wave of restrained fury emanating from him.

Then he turned his heel and swept out of the room, leaving Sakura shaking with fear and anger. She clenched her fists by her sides to still the trembling.

A sound nearby reminded her that Kabuto was still in the room. He pushed his glasses up nervously.

"Um – can I – can I get you anything? Tea?"

"I want to punch something," said Sakura through clenched teeth.

Kabuto must've heard tales of her strength, because he stared at her, fidgeted, said "I'm going to go make some tea," and walked away quickly.

Sakura made her way back to her quarters, mulling the exchange over angrily. She had probably just recklessly endangered herself – and Sasuke – but what the hell was she supposed to do?

Orochimaru was deluded if he thought she could heal up Kimimaro from corpse-like to fighting fit within three months. _Deluded_. Like, actually crazy.

Sakura slammed open the door to her room and slammed it shut with just as much violence.

The conversation replayed itself in her head, to the point where she could almost hear Orochimaru's breathy hisses in her ears again. _I cannot wait for half a year… You leave me no choice but to use dear Sasuke… You will do your utmost to do the impossible_ …

Sakura threw herself onto her cot and pushed her knuckles into her forehead. As she mulled over the exchange, something began to dawn on her. Perhaps Orochimaru's uncharacteristic loss of his cool – his fury and irrationality in the face of her cold hard facts – might have been borne by something other than being upset about his derailed plan. Because his body was dying around him, and of his two carefully-chosen and sealed vessels, one was missing, and the other was barely above comatose.

It was very possible that Orochimaru wasn't only furious. He had a decaying body, useless arms, no ninjutsu, and his plan A was a barely-breathing ruin of a man, and his plan B was running around god-knows-where trying to commit fratricide.

It was very possible that Orochimaru was _afraid_.

That made him even more dangerous to Sakura, because frightened creatures are irrational and unpredictable. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself tightly, wondering how she was going to get out of this one. The impossible was impossible. There was no way she could heal Kimimaro this fast, no matter her skill level. She was finished.

Perhaps she would just try punching her way out of this one and see if she could hold her own against Orochimaru as well as Tsunade had, all those years ago. He was old, he didn't have arms, she was young and strong… but there wasn't only Orochimaru to contend with, she'd also be up against Kabuto – himself a formidable opponent – and whatever other Sound nin were around…

Sakura stared hopelessly at the floor. There was no way she could make this happen. From cadaver to fully healthy shinobi in three months? No-one healed that fast. No-one.

A crash in the next room made her jump.

Sakura ran into Kimimaro's ward with her heart in her mouth – the last thing she needed was for him to have injured himself or worse…

Kimimaro blinked at her from where he lay in his bed, having apparently knocked over his IV stand in a failed attempt to hoist himself up.

"Are you hurt?" asked Sakura breathlessly, giving him a worried once-over.

Kimimaro raised his hands with painful slowness and watched them shake with tremors from the small effort he had just made.

"Kimimaro…?"

He let his head fall back onto the pillow and stared balefully at the ceiling. "I'm _weak_."

Sakura was taken aback by how much disgust the man packed into that one word, spoken barely above a whisper, but full of self-loathing.

"Of course you are," said Sakura. "Your body has been through hell. In fact, you shouldn't be able to move at all right now–"

Sakura's hands, which had been busily rearranging Kimimaro's sheets, froze where they were. She stared at Kimimaro, on the cusp of a realization…

He stared back with those Kaguya eyes lined with red.

His bloodline limit. His unparalleled regenerative abilities. Kabuto had called him a freak of nature for his body's ability to restore itself through his kekkei genkai. He was a self-healer, and between his regeneration and Sakura's medical ninjutsu, then maybe…?

Kimimaro blinked at her, waiting for her to finish her sentence.

"Sorry I – I just realized something," said Sakura. "Um – excuse me… I need to go look something up…"

She disappeared into her room and pulled out all of Kabuto's notes on Kimimaro's regenerative abilities to see what exactly they entailed, and how she could bolster them herself, so that she could, perhaps, meet Orochimaru's ridiculous deadline and make the impossible possible…

VVV

As she got to know Kimimaro over the days that followed, Sakura concluded that 'psychological issues' did not even begin to describe him, and that Kabuto had rather minimized the scope of those issues in his records. Kimimaro's nightmarish childhood followed by years getting brainwashed by Orochimaru, followed by more years of decaying health had made this man, quite simply, a mess.

Having lived among shinobi all of her life, Sakura knew that most of them were not exactly social butterflies, but Kimimaro was reserved far beyond what she would consider normal. He was so quiet that most of their conversations, as Sakura worked on healing him, consisted of her asking questions and then answering them herself with her own suppositions while he stared at her, and perhaps, if he was feeling talkative, gave her a one-word answer. When he did deign to speak, his sentences were brief and clipped, rolling off of his tongue in a toneless voice.

This stoicism extended also to his facial expressions: his pale face might have been made of bone for all it moved. Sakura learned to read into his minute eyebrow raises, his stares, his blinks. A smile never crossed his face.

He had an affinity for touch that took her off guard. Sakura was not sure where the habit had originated, but for all of his verbal and emotional reserve, physically, Kimimaro was _very_ touchy-feely. Sakura wasn't sure what to make of his fingers trailing down her arms while she examined him, or the way he would brush the back of his hand against her cheek when she wasn't paying attention. She noticed that Kabuto got the same treatment, which he responded to by telling Kimimaro off, or pulling away with irritated jerks.

When Sakura asked Kabuto about the behaviour later, he told her that Kimimaro had almost always had this habit. Kabuto theorized that it was a result of his brutal childhood – sequestered and treated as a weapon, he had not received any of the normal human contact growing up, and now he sought it out in the easiest way possible.

Sakura tended to agree with the theory. For her, though, if the touches truly were a relic of Kimimaro's harsh upbringing, they elicited pity, not irritation. Because this man's life had been a hellish one, and if he sought these soft moments to make up for it in a small way, she wouldn't begrudge him them. Only when his touches lingered too long did she pull his hands away gently and fold them back onto his chest. It was in many ways a heartbreaking thing.

VVV

The first time that Kimimaro was conscious when Sakura did a chakra scan, a few days into his rehabilitation, he was fascinated. As indicated by his eyebrows moving upwards _almost three millimeters_ , when Sakura placed her palms on his chest and summoned her chakra.

"I know it feels strange to have someone else's chakra in you…"

Kimimaro was watching her warily and Sakura noticed that there were goosebumps rippling their way across his skin.

"… but I promise this won't hurt," said Sakura.

Her tentative tendrils of chakra penetrated Kimimaro's skin, where she found his chakra resisting hers quite anxiously.

After a brief push against his chakra to see if it would give, Sakura shook her head. "You need to try to relax, Kimimaro. I don't want to fight your chakra."

Kimimaro only tensed up further in response, which made Sakura laugh.

"Listen – we'll try again some other time, okay?" said Sakura. "The last thing I want to do is cause your body stress."

She withdrew her hands. Kimimaro watched her walk away in silence.

The next morning, when she attempted a scan again, he was completely loose, closing his eyes when she touched him.

VVV

The one topic that was guaranteed to get Kimimaro talking – and that, conversely, Sakura never wanted to talk about – was Orochimaru. He asked about Orochimaru on a daily basis and was frustrated just as often when Sakura could only give him vague answers. But, since her contact with Orochimaru was fleeting at best, and really quite hostile in nature, Sakura had nothing useful to tell him, and was wise enough to keep her real opinion of the snake sannin to herself.

One evening when Kabuto was bringing in her dinner, Sakura asked if Kimimaro might be allowed to see Orochimaru again.

"No," said Kabuto, looking suddenly annoyed. "What for?"

Sakura found herself nonplussed at this response, because she had thought the request completely innocuous.

"Um – because Kimimaro worships him…? I think it would give him a huge morale boost. Just for a few minutes, just to say hello…"

"That's not going to happen," said Kabuto with a finality that surprised her.

Sakura blinked at him, not understanding his categorical shut-down of this simple request. "Can I ask why?"

Kabuto looked at Sakura over his glasses. "Because Orochimaru has ten thousand other things to deal with right now. Kimimaro is a vessel… nothing more. Orochimaru is only interested in his body, not in chitchatting with him."

Sakura stared at Kabuto with her mouth open for a few moments. "But – can't he at least _pretend_? For five minutes? Do you know how much Kimimaro cares about him and wants to please him?"

"I know," said Kabuto. "It's actually kind of incredible, isn't it? It's one of Orochimaru's greatest skills, to inspire faithfulness until death in his followers. Sometimes I think it must be a jutsu…"

He looked away thoughtfully and Sakura, repelled by his obvious admiration of Orochimaru's manipulative skills, wanted to ask Kabuto if he had fallen to this jutsu himself.

"I think it's not right," said Sakura. "And it's cruel. Orochimaru brainwashed a child, who has now grown up into a broken man, and he is that broken man's whole world, apparently, and now he won't even say hi, how are you doing?"

Kabuto shrugged. "Listen. Kimimaro's body is what's valuable to Orochimaru. I don't know what your impression was, but Orochimaru sure as hell didn't move heaven and earth to make Kimimaro better, just because he liked the guy. It's because he's a valuable asset."

"Orochimaru really is a heartless bastard," said Sakura, too annoyed to mask her disgust.

"Yeah, he is," said Kabuto. "He's also an unparalleled _genius_ , and, once he has that new body – he's going to be unstoppable."

"Wow," said Sakura, looking at Kabuto askance. "You… you really think you're on the right side of all this."

"I know I am," said Kabuto. "You could be, too, you know."

Sakura took a breath to keep her temper in check. "Kabuto. This is the second time you've suggested that to me. It offends me to the core that you'd think I'd _ever_ consider defecting from the Hidden Leaf – much less defect to join a band of _traitors_."

"We aren't traitors –"

"Yes, you are. Traitors and brainwashers and abusers and gods know what else you get up to in those dungeons… but you know what? I don't even need those reasons to reject your offer – just seeing how Orochimaru is treating his _most dedicated soldier_ is enough to put me off forever."

Kabuto shook his head at her. "You're really having trouble understanding this. Orochimaru isn't a forgiving person and Kimimaro has failed him several times – his sickness, the fact that we've spent a small fortune to keep him alive, his loss to those little genins that almost made us lose Sasuke… Kimimaro is in Orochimaru's bad books. Fact of life. He's alive now because his body is useful. Nothing more."

"Orochimaru blames Kimimaro for being sick? What, does he think he did it on purpose?"

"Of course not–"

"And was it Kimimaro's decision to sink endless resources into keeping himself alive?"

"No, but–"

"And that loss to the genins?!" interrupted Sakura. "He was half dead on entry to that fight – he defied all the laws of science even holding out for as long as he did. Do you know who those quote-unquote little genins _were_?"

"Yes–"

"Two jinchuuriki, and a Drunken Fist user!"

"I know–"

" _Demon vessels_ , Kabuto. Two! And Kimimaro was _dying_. And he almost _won_."

"Yes, but–"

"So how – _how_ can Kimimaro be in Orochimaru's bad books?"

"If you'd let me get a word in edgewise," said Kabuto. "It's the end result that matters to Orochimaru. Ultimately, Kimimaro _failed_."

"Then Orochimaru is abysmally stupid," said Sakura, crossing her arms and staring angrily at Kabuto.

"Sakura," said Kabuto with a warning in his voice. "You are forgetting your place."

"Kimimaro _loves_ the man. He worships him."

"I know."

"Well then?"

"To be honest with you, Kimimaro will probably not see him until the preparations for Orochimaru's soul-transfer jutsu are complete."

"That is such _bullshit_ ," said Sakura. "But if it's true, then you ought to tell Kimimaro. He needs to know."

"Fine," said Kabuto. "This will have been the last you hear of it. And you and I won't need to have this discussion again."

He slammed the door shut on his way out and Sakura's glare burned a hole into it.

VVV

Kimimaro did not ask about Orochimaru again after that. His dispassionate stare was unchanged, though Sakura thought that there was something disheartened in his look the next day, when she was showing him strengthening exercises he could do while lying in bed.

"Eventually I'll bring you some weights, and we can start on your muscle mass. Orochimaru wants you able to fight before he takes you as his vessel. Okay?"

"Yes."

Sakura was pleased to see that Kimimaro seemed to enjoy the exercises, which gave him something to do to melt away the hours while his system recovered from years of deterioration.

She was less pleased to see him wallow in self-loathing, which he seemed prone to doing whenever he was not actively doing something else.

When she caught him sullenly contemplating his skeletal arms and then feeling his bony face, she gave him a warning look.

"Stop that," said Sakura.

Kimimaro gave her a baleful stare as his trembling fingertips traced the gaunt indent of his right cheek.

"You need to give yourself _time_ ," said Sakura. "You've been through so much."

Kimimaro stared at his thin hands in disgust. "I am a shell of what I was."

"Kimimaro…"

"Look at this," he said, holding his shaky hands towards Sakura. "I am worthless."

"You're _not_ worthless."

Kimimaro let his hands fall onto his chest and stared at the ceiling. There was a long pause, as though he hated to say what he was about to say: "Kabuto… Kabuto says that Orochimaru will not see me."

Sakura said nothing, unsure of where he was going with this.

"Kabuto says that Orochimaru is unhappy with me." He turned to look at Sakura with those clear green eyes. "I failed him so many times, you know."

Sakura found herself biting her tongue, torn between comforting him with lies, or telling him the truth, that Orochimaru was an abusive bastard who only cared about his body and wasn't worth his love…

"I think," said Sakura, weighing her words carefully, "that the fact that he's kept you alive for so long proves that you're worth something to him."

Kimimaro stared at her impassively, but one eyebrow twitched just enough that Sakura understood that he did not believe her.

"If you were worthless to him, he wouldn't have gone through so much to keep you alive, and even brought me in… he kidnapped me, the Hokage's protégé – he's risking war with Konoha over you."

Kimimaro looked at the ceiling and didn't answer.

Sakura switched tacks, hoping to pull him out of his morose mood with some obnoxious positivity. "Listen. I'm _really good_ at what I do. And you heal ridiculously quickly. You amaze me with your progress every day – and believe me, I've seen a _lot_ of cases. You're healing at a rate beyond anything I would have thought possible, before I met you. We'll have you back up in no time. Okay?"

One of Kimimaro's hands found Sakura's and he squeezed it. "Yes. That is what I must do. Heal quickly. So that I can give him my body and be – be of some value to him…"

Sakura stared at Kimimaro, having been rendered speechless by how damaged he was. Orochimaru had twisted his sense of self-worth so much that he was now this – this sad creature willing to give up his life to a man just to be _of some value_ to him.

It made Sakura feel simultaneously sick and furious. Not only in the face of this evidence of extended emotional abuse but also in that she was actively helping Kimimaro reach this heartbreaking goal, as though it was something that she would ever condone in her life…

Sakura turned away so that Kimimaro couldn't see the fury on her face.

Perhaps it would have been kinder to let him die, and then deal with the consequences.

VVV

Kimimaro did his exercises obsessively after that conversation and he grew stronger every day. Over the weeks that followed, his wasted muscles once again became visible masses under his skin; the sharp angles of his bones were covered by flesh; his face filled out to something less nightmarishly skeletal – something much more human.

His appetite grew in consequence. On the day that Sakura took him off of the IV drip and prepared a simple broth for him, he was thrilled, which he demonstrated not by smiling or telling her, but rather by running his hands up her arms and squeezing her shoulders tightly.

He insisted on trying to feed himself, at first – but his hand-eye coordination was shot, and his fingers couldn't quite grip the spoon, so Sakura hand-fed him with good-natured patience.

"You'll be doing this yourself in no time," said Sakura, trying not to beam too much, but failing. "Look at you – sitting up by yourself now. Your core has strengthened a ton, and your posterior chain muscles are pretty much in working order again…"

As she fed him (and babbled to fill the silence, as was now her custom), Sakura felt Kimimaro studying her. His gaze took in her bright green eyes, her pink hair pulled back into its loose braid, her smiling mouth.

"What is it?" asked Sakura.

"You are pretty," said Kimimaro.

Sakura's mouth opened and closed dumbly, because this was not what she had expected to hear.

"I – um, well, thank you," said Sakura.

She fed him his next mouthful and looked at the floor, annoyed to feel the warmth of a blush on her cheeks. It wasn't the first time a patient had said something awkward to her, but there was just such candid sincerity in Kimimaro sometimes, because he was so unaccustomed to social conventions…

He kept his gaze riveted on her face.

"How strong are you?" he asked after a long silence.

Slightly perplexed by the question, but not wanting to discourage him from holding an actual conversation, Sakura answered, "I would say… fairly strong. Why do you ask?"

"Just now, you fixed the crooked leg on that chair," said Kimimaro, pointing at the chair in question. "You bent the steel easily."

"Let's just say I'm stronger than I look," said Sakura, fully aware that she was making the understatement of the century.

Kimimaro's fingers brushed her palms. "Your hands are so gentle. So it was unexpected. That is all."

Sakura smiled at him for lack of an intelligent response to the remark. Kimimaro finished the soup in pensive silence, quite oblivious to her awkwardness.

Sakura put his bowl away, but kept the spoon, and stole a fork from her own lunch tray.

"Here, take these," said Sakura, handing him the cutlery. "And play with them… twirl them, toss them from hand to hand, dance them across your fingers… we need to work on getting your dexterity back up to par."

Kimimaro set himself to the task eagerly. By the end of the day, when Sakura came in to check on him, he was able to hold the fork and spoon almost normally, though his fingers ached and cramped with exertion.

VVV

"What do you make of it, Sakura?"

Kabuto and Sakura were standing in front of Kimimaro, whose chest had, on this particular morning, blossomed into a splendid itchy red rash.

"I really don't know," said Sakura. "You've ruled out a lot of things already – eczema, prurigo, bromoderma… I'm just not understanding what triggered it. He's been eating the same things, drinking the same things, he hasn't pushed any bones through yet, so that can't have caused it…"

Kabuto peered at the rash through his glasses. "It's exactly the same reaction as before, whatever it is – you see those lesions, and the cracked skin?"

"I do," said Sakura, leaning in to look as well. "You know, if there isn't an environmental trigger – and your allergy tests have always come clean – I'm thinking this could be a minor immune system dysfunction."

"Oh?"

"That or there could be a genetic factor involved… maybe we're looking at atopic dermatitis? I'm not sure. I'll hit it with a topical corticosteroid just to make him more comfortable…"

"By all means, try anything," said Kabuto. "I'll leave you to it – I have some, ah, pressing matters to take care of this morning…"

Sakura watched him go, wondering what those pressing matters might be, and whether they had any relation to her. Then she turned to Kimimaro, who was staring at her expressionlessly, and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Sorry, Kimimaro, we just babbled on like you weren't even here. Listen – I'm not sure what this is, but I'm going to make a lotion to try to treat it. It should at least cut the itching and bring down the swelling."

She caught one of his hands that was drifting up to itch at the rash.

"No scratching, please," said Sakura.

"It itches," said Kimimaro, pressing his fingers into her wrist, as though this added squeeze emphasized his point.

"I know. But you might be making it worse. So don't touch it."

"Oh," said Kimimaro, dropping his hands obediently.

"Call me if it gets worse, or if you have any trouble breathing. I'll be in the lab."

Kimimaro pushed a strand of hair out of his face and almost gave himself a black eye in the process. "Yes."

An hour later, Sakura exited from the lab, holding up a little pot of in-house hydrocortisone cream. It wasn't as perfectly synthesized as something you would get in a pharmacy, but she was working with what she had, here.

Kimimaro watched her approach warily. Sakura helped him sit up with his legs hanging off of the side of the bed.

"Let's hope this works, so we can get rid of that itching…"

Sakura stood between Kimimaro's legs, pressing the cream into his chest with quick, sure motions. Though the mixture was easy to spread, it needed to be worked in.

Silence fell as Sakura worked. First it was just a regular silence, and then it grew into an awkward silence, for Sakura at least, who began to wish that there was a less sensual way to do this.

Kimimaro stared at her dreamily, his gaze moving from her hands on his chest to her face. She wished that she knew what was going through his mind when his eyes flicked from her mouth to her eyes to her mouth again.

As she worked, Sakura was pleased to feel a layer of subcutaneous fat and muscle underneath of Kimimaro's skin, and she told him so to break the silence.

He replied with a strange sound. Sakura glanced up from where her hands were on his ribcage, wondering if he was choking. Then she realized that he was ticklish. She laughed in surprise.

"What?" said Kimimaro, a glint of suspicion in his eyes.

"You're ticklish," said Sakura. "I didn't expect you to be ticklish."

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

"It's okay," said Sakura. "I'm ticklish too."

Kimimaro blinked at her.

As she worked the salve in, Sakura found herself wondering how much he had ever been tickled in his life. Probably not very much.

"Anyway," said Sakura, rambling on determinedly in the face of his silence. "They say laughter is the best medicine. I'm not sure how much I can agree with that, on a _medical_ basis, but it does release some feel-good hormones. And there's always some truth to those old wives' tales, so who knows, maybe it'll give you a boost… I'll take any improvements I can get – I mean, not that you _need_ to or _should_ improve any faster, you're already doing so well and –"

Kimimaro cut her off mid-sentence. "You care a great deal. That I get better."

Sakura looked up at him. "Yes. Of course."

"Because they made a bargain with you," said Kimimaro.

"Well – yes. Kabuto must have told you. I'm healing you so that Orochimaru lets my –" here Sakura hesitated briefly, "– my _friend_ go free."

"You are here unwillingly," said Kimimaro.

"Yes," said Sakura.

"Are we enemies?"

Sakura opened her mouth to answer and found that her brain had not actually supplied one. Kimimaro watched her in silence, waiting for her response.

" _You're_ not my enemy," said Sakura finally. "Not really."

She pressed the salve into Kimimaro's abdominals, hoping, for once, that the conversation had ended. Her reprieve was short-lived.

"Is Orochimaru your enemy?" asked Kimimaro.

Sakura stood back and looked at him. "Yes."

The smallest frown creased the space between the two red dots on Kimimaro's forehead.

"You disapprove, of course," said Sakura. "But he's threatening someone I – well – someone dear to me. That's why I agreed to do this."

Kimimaro looked at her impassively and Sakura cursed him for being so damn difficult to read – because she felt like this moment, these questions of his, were somehow important, but she wasn't understanding his angle…

She bit her lip. "You should know something, though."

He tilted his head at her, so minutely that she would have missed it if she hadn't been watching for it.

"In spite of the circumstances that brought me here – even if I _am_ here against my will – I consider you a patient of mine, now," said Sakura. "And that means that I care about you."

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

"So, despite the fact that I agreed to do this under duress, your wellbeing matters to me. _You_ matter to me. Okay?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

"Good," said Sakura.

Again silence fell between them, this time one that was heavy and pensive.

"Enemies of Orochimaru's are enemies of mine," said Kimimaro eventually.

Sakura looked up at him.

"But. It is a strange thing," he continued, running his hands over Sakura's where they were pressed into his chest, "I believe that you are not."

Sakura smiled despite herself, surprised at this statement from Mr. Stoicism over here. "That's kind of you to say."

She pushed herself away from Kimimaro and made for his small bathroom to wash her hands. "Life has lots of weird, contradictory, confusing grey areas like this, you know. Now that you're actually going to live yours, you'll probably encounter a lot more."

"I do not think I like it," said Kimimaro.

"I don't think anyone does," said Sakura.

It was that night that Sakura noticed a rather interesting phenomenon. She was taking a break from filling in the day's medical chart and was idly watching the chakra monitors in her room that tracked Kimimaro's vitals as well as his neural activity.

If she made a noise, she saw his brain activity levels rise slightly – a normal response.

When Kabuto came in with Kimimaro's dinner, there was a similar neural activity rise.

When Sakura popped her head into the ward to check in on Kimimaro, the levels increased higher than for Kabuto. And when she entered his room and made for his bed, they spiked. There was also a slight increase in his heart rate.

Sakura stared at the monitors as she got ready for bed, dearly wishing that Orochimaru would walk in so she could compare the reactions.

VVV

(gif by DeGlace)


	4. Chapter 4

Sakura's professional opinion was that Kimimaro should remain at bedrest for at least three weeks following his major lung operation. However, Kimimaro did not share this opinion: after a fortnight of good food and dutiful (and slightly obsessive) completion of all of the exercises that Sakura prescribed him, he began to grow increasingly restless.

It was, of course, a good sign – it meant that his strength was growing in leaps and bounds and that his body was responding to Sakura's excellent care coupled with the enhanced healing abilities of his kekkei genkai.

Sakura spotted a heart-rate spike one afternoon when she was folding her laundry on her cot. She sighed – Kimimaro was able to put up serious struggles with increasing frequency, and this was the fourth time today…

"Kimimaro!" she exclaimed, having found him halfway out of bed. "I told you you're not supposed to get up yet!"

"I do not care," said Kimimaro, struggling to pull his leg out from under the sheets.

"I don't care if you don't care," said Sakura. "Lay back down before you undo all of my work…!"

"No thank you," said Kimimaro sullenly.

"Kimimaro."

"I will not."

"You will," said Sakura, pressing him down into the bed with her hands on his shoulders. "Your body is not _ready_ yet. I will _tell_ you when you can get up."

Kimimaro resisted her with surprising strength, his elbows locked and his hands pressing against the bed. "I am fine. You cannot push me down any more. That is an improvement."

"I promise you I can still push you down," said Sakura.

He gave her a look that was a challenge to prove it, so, with a quick movement, Sakura brought a hand around his back and pressed the crook of an elbow. Kimimaro's arm collapsed under his weight and he fell back into bed with a grunt.

Sakura halted his next attempt to get up with her full weight on his upper arms. She didn't need to summon her chakra to do so yet – but at this rate, it would only be a matter of days before his strength eclipsed her own unboosted strength.

Kimimaro watched her hover above him with a vaguely satisfied expression.

As for Sakura, she was more than slightly exasperated. "Okay – you know what? I'll let you try today – _if_ your leg condition permits it."

This made him glad – he squeezed her hands and ran a grateful hand up her arm.

Sakura pulled back his sheet and passed her hands over his legs, evaluating the muscle he had built up.

"You've actually got a decent base here," said Sakura, surprised as she pressed her fingers into his untried muscles. "Calves are getting there. Hamstrings too, though they feel a little tight. Your quads are fine…"

Kimimaro watched her with half-lidded eyes, idly twirling one of the spoons that Sakura had given him to improve his manual dexterity.

Sakura passed her hands over his knees and ankles. "…And I'm not too worried about your joints because your skeletal structure has demonstrated the ability to take care of itself. Honestly, you heal _so_ fast. You keep messing up my calculations. I thought you'd be at this stage in another week – and I thought I was being optimistic."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I'll let you try to stand up," said Sakura. "But we're going to take this slow. And I don't want you to fuss if you can't do it – you've been bedridden for _years_. Okay?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro, his eyes wide and full of eagerness.

Sakura perched herself beside Kimimaro on the bed and hooked his arm around her neck.

"Ready?" said Sakura.

He turned to look at her. Their faces were a few inches apart and light green met red-lined deeper green. Kimimaro's fine lips were slightly parted and Sakura could see a hint of very white teeth between them.

"Yes," breathed Kimimaro, watching her with almost disturbing intensity.

"Come on, then," said Sakura, nudging him. "On three…"

Sakura's chakra-enhanced strength made it easy for her to lift Kimimaro to his feet. At first they clung together, him instinctively because he was wobbly, and her because she feared that he would fall. Then he stabilized himself and Sakura released him slowly as he straightened out.

To her surprise, Kimimaro was over a head taller than she was. Sakura hadn't really considered his height in all of this time, because she was always leaning over him while he was in bed. It was strange and almost intimidating. It reminded her that he was… well, very much a man. A dangerous shinobi. A dangerous shinobi with enough psychological problems to fill a couple of textbooks.

Kimimaro looked extremely satisfied to be standing on his own – there flickered across his features almost the idea of a smile.

Sakura backed away from him and he took an unsteady step towards her. Another step followed, then another. Sakura pressed her hands to her mouth to stifle a broad grin. Nearly two months had passed since she first started her work on that half-dead being in the dim ward – and now look…

Sakura hadn't lied when she told Kimimaro that she actually cared about his wellbeing. Now, whether he was a Sound nin or not, he was her patient, and he had improved beyond belief.

One of his knees gave out and Sakura caught him before he hit the ground.

"That was _awesome_ ," said Sakura, helping him back to his feet.

"Yes," said Kimimaro. His gaze was aglow with something that might have been joy.

Sakura couldn't help herself – she squeezed him into a hug. "Not bad for the guy who asked me how much longer he had to live a few months back."

Kimimaro stiffened in her arms, then, after a moment, he returned the hug tightly enough to make Sakura squeak. The quiet _thank you_ that he whispered into her ear made her shiver for reasons that she couldn't quite pinpoint – perhaps it was the pure, heartfelt sincerity in the words.

Sakura held onto him a little longer, unsure of when he would release her and not wanting to offend him. He did not show any inclination towards letting go and, after a few moments, Sakura realized that he was trembling, though whether it was from exertion or something else, she wasn't certain.

Kabuto's quick steps in the hallway made them both pull apart out of some unspoken mutual understanding that, somehow, he would not like to find them being quite so chummy.

When Kabuto walked into the ward, he stopped and stared in such wide-eyed surprise at the sight of Kimimaro standing up that it was almost comical. Sakura was actually impressed that he didn't drop the food-laden tray he was carrying.

"Guess who's out of bed?" said Sakura with a grin.

"I'm – I'm having trouble believing my eyes, actually," said Kabuto. "Orochimaru will be pleased."

"Will you – will you tell him that I can walk?" said Kimimaro. There was something of supplication in the question, some sad, slightly desperate approval-seeking that set Sakura's teeth on edge.

Kabuto's expression darkened at the question. Before he could open his mouth to answer, one of Kimimaro's legs buckled and he stabilized himself against the back of a chair.

"I'll tell him you can walk when you can actually walk," said Kabuto.

"…Of course," said Kimimaro, looking at the floor.

Kabuto put the tray of food down and turned to Sakura. "You've done excellent work, as always."

"Thank you," said Sakura, keeping her temper in check with some effort.

What she really wanted to do was inform Kabuto that he was a bit of a dick, but given the circumstances, perhaps that could wait.

VVV

Kimimaro's progress was rapid after this breakthrough moment when he was able to walk again. Sakura showed him the exercises that would help him bring his body back to its optimal state and he did them with zeal that bordered on obsession. Sakura often heard him pacing slowly in the ward. As the days passed, his stumblings became less frequent, and soon she could barely hear him at all.

At Sakura's request, Kabuto had obtained an obscure text on the genetic history of the Shikotsumyaku bone-molding ability. She was lying on her cot, leafing through the book, when she realized that the door between her room and Kimimaro's ward was open, and had been for some time.

"What is it?" asked Sakura when she saw Kimimaro standing in the doorway.

As for Kimimaro, he stood stock-still in what appeared to be utter surprise.

"I am sorry – forgive me – this was a hallway before," he stammered, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Oh," said Sakura, laughing. "Well, it's my room now."

"I did not know."

"It's okay."

"I apologize."

"Kimimaro – it's fine. You can come in."

After glancing around the room from the door for a few seconds, Kimimaro stepped inside. Sakura noticed that instead of his usual nondescript hospital-issue boxers, he was wearing a loose white kimono-style top and black pants. It pleased her that he managed to dress himself – these small acts of independence were huge steps towards his return to normalcy.

"I like what you did with your hair," said Sakura when she noticed that he had arranged that as well.

Kimimaro passed a hand over his white hair, divided equally by a part that was a jagged zigzag reminiscent of a cracked bone. The two longer strands of hair that framed his face were attached at the bottom with crimson bands.

"It is the traditional style of the Kaguya," said Kimimaro.

Sakura blinked at him, finding it momentarily difficult to understanding why he, who had been so abused at the hands of his own clan, would want to hold onto a piece of their history like that – but, nevertheless.

"It's nice," said Sakura. She pointed at her own messy bun with a smirk. "This is the traditional style of the Haruno."

"It is also nice," said Kimimaro politely.

Right, so humour wasn't his forte.

"I was being silly," said Sakura. "The Haruno don't really have a style, other than this shade of pink that happens every couple generations."

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

He took a further step into her room, taking in the desk heaped in Sakura's notes, the chair stacked with files, the books piled in the corner.

"It's all about you, you know," said Sakura. "All that stuff."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," said Sakura. "You're an interesting person."

Kimimaro surveyed the stacks in apparent astonishment. "I did not realize."

Sakura got up and rifled through the piles, hefting up binders and books here and there. "There's tons of cool stuff here – look, this is about your health over the years – these are Kabuto's observations – here's a history of your clan – oh, and here's stuff about your bloodline, that's what I find _really_ interesting, actually–"

Kimimaro, who was now standing next to her, picked up a loose sheet of paper from one of the piles. Sakura watched him frown as he read it. She hoped that he hadn't just found one of Kabuto's lists of his psychological problems.

"I cannot understand this," said Kimimaro.

Sakura leaned over his shoulder to read. As was typical whenever she was in his immediate vicinity, one of his hands reached out for her. Warm fingers ran absently up and down her forearm.

"Yeah – can't blame you," said Sakura, looking at the paper. "These are the names of microscopic structures in your lungs – just some notes from when I was prepping for your operation."

"Oh."

"I'm reading something about your bloodline limit tonight," said Sakura, picking up the book that she had been leafing through earlier. She dusted off its faded cover to show him the image that adorned it: the crossed white swords that made up the Kaguya crest. "I was going to ask you tomorrow if you wouldn't mind showing me some simple manipulations, actually. The Shikotsumyaku really intrigues me."

"I would not mind," said Kimimaro.

"Great," said Sakura.

"I would not mind showing you right now," said Kimimaro.

Some polite words of refusal were forming on Sakura's lips because she wanted to finish her reading before messing around with his kekkei genkai – but Kimimaro was being unusually forthcoming, so she closed her book with a snap.

"Oh – well, sure. I don't see why not," she said, moving over to give him space on her cot. "Take a seat."

They faced each other, sitting cross-legged with their knees touching. A glance at the monitors showed Sakura that Kimimaro's neural activity was once again spiking.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? I don't want you to do it if there's a chance it'll hurt you or anything…"

"It will not hurt me," said Kimimaro.

"Alright," said Sakura, trying not to bounce with excitement at the thought of finally seeing this phenomenon that she had read so much about. "So show me – just something simple, maybe? Like can you push a bone from your arm or something like that?"

Kimimaro blinked his agreement and held out his forearm between them. Sakura watched as a lump formed near his radius, quickly becoming a point under the skin. A glint of bone was soon visible, pushing outwards amid a few specks of blood. It continued to slip out until it tapered to a point, somewhat resembling a thick senbon, which Kimimaro caught and passed to Sakura as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

If she hadn't been a medic and if she hadn't researched this trait, Sakura was certain that she would have found the demonstration disturbing – even as is, in this controlled setting, it was _weird_ to see someone pushing out his own bones. She watched the hole where the bone had come out of reform quickly, the few drops of blood vanishing as the wound disappeared.

"That is so _cool_. Where does the blood go?"

"I absorb it back in through the wound."

Sakura pulled Kimimaro's forearm toward her and passed her fingers over the place where his skin had been pierced a moment before. To her astonishment – and, as a medic, intense admiration – it was almost perfectly healed.

"And you don't even think about healing?"

"No."

"It just happens?"

"Yes."

"I'm jealous," said Sakura with a grin. "That's amazing."

She turned her attention to the bone-senbon that he had produced and felt the keen points on either end. She tried to snap it, but it resisted with surprising strength, giving only slightly when she infused some chakra into her fingers.

"The books say the Shikotsumyaku produces bones that are harder than steel," said Sakura. "Is that true?"

"I believe so," said Kimimaro. "I have fought opponents with steel swords."

"And?"

"They broke," said Kimimaro. "My swords did not."

For the first time since she had met him, Sakura heard an undertone of pride in Kimimaro's smooth voice. So he knew that he was a strong shinobi. It was a nice change from the self-loathing, anyway….

"This is impressive," said Sakura, pushing more chakra into her fingers and finding that the bone steadfastly resisted her.

Kimimaro shrugged elegantly. "I will be able to do more, when I am stronger. Much more."

"Does it hurt to push these out?"

"Not really," said Kimimaro. "I am used to it."

"How long will this bone last, out of your body?"

"As long as I want it to."

"I've seen some pretty strange stuff over the years," said Sakura, her eyes bright with the enthusiasm of new discovery, "but nothing even comes close to this. Your bloodline limit is awesome. You're just – _fascinating_. You know that?"

Kimimaro blinked at her. "Thank you."

"Can I keep this?" said Sakura, holding up the bone-senbon.

"Yes."

Sakura undid her messy bun and made a new one, sliding the thin bone through it as a holder. "Thanks. Now, pass me your arm."

Kimimaro's eyes flicked to where his bone-senbon was now twisted prettily into Sakura's hair, then back to her hands on his forearm.

"Can you push another one of these out, but slowly?" asked Sakura. "I want to feel what happens inside when you're doing it…"

"Yes."

Sakura felt a lump form beneath her hand, and then his skin broke, and then the smooth surface of a bone prodded at her palm. She noticed that he had made the bone rounded at the end this time, presumably so that he did not hurt her – a thoughtful gesture on the part of a fearsome Kaguya weapon.

She sent a tendril of chakra into the bone that was partially protruding from Kimimaro's arm to feel the joint where it bone separated from his skeleton. Her eyes glazed over as she swirled with her chakra, trying to understand how this kekkei genkai worked. Where did the extra material for this come from? From the reserves in his skeleton's nutritional canals? How could those last long enough? How was this actually being pushed out, was there chakra involved? Why didn't it hurt?

Sakura withdrew her chakra and stared pensively at the triangle of skin just above Kimimaro's cursed seal, questions and theories flicking through her mind. She reached out a hand and pushed chakra to her fingertips.

"Hm – I'm going to go explore," said Sakura. "Back in a few."

VVV

So she was in him again, this medic-girl with the chakra that flowed with such smooth warmth through his system. So different to Kabuto's chakra, which was almost coarse in comparison, and cold…

He could feel little jolts of her chakra exploring his joints, looking for who-knew-what new thing was intriguing her. It still disconcerted him, this girl's enthusiasm for what were to him quite mundane occurrences – his rapid healing and his dead bone pulse, vastly uninteresting things to him, but to her, he was – what did she call it? _Fascinating_.

 _Fascinating_. He would like to tell her that the feeling was mutual, though he wasn't certain how to word it – words did not come easily to him; he preferred the language of the body – blows and caresses and all the things in between, which were so much more honest and so much more real. Perhaps one day he would tell her that he found her _fascinating_ (using words, not hands as was his preference) because she was unlike any ninja that he had ever encountered, this medic-girl. She was so strangely caring, and gentle, and thoughtful, all traits which he might have considered weaknesses, but in her they were strengths that buttressed very real power – this medical ninjutsu that healed the impossible, these gentle hands with the hidden strength…

He passed a fingertip along the Sakura-girl's arm, partly out of boredom, because she wasn't talking to him, and partly because it looked so invitingly soft. He leaned forward so he could look into her eyes while she was seeing things somewhere in his left tibia on her chakra-wave.

These eyes were green, like his – only lighter in colour, and also in the sense that they did not bear the weight of a black past, the heaviness of a lifetime of failure…

He felt Sakura withdraw her chakra and leaned back, placing his hands on his knees. He watched her rub at the back of her neck with a puzzled expression and mutter something about _articular cartilage_ and _medullary cavity_ and other things that he didn't understand.

Kimimaro was struck by a sudden thought.

"When you do that with your chakra…"

"Mm?"

He hesitated before posing the question, but not long enough for her to notice. "Can you feel my thoughts?"

She shook her head no, absently, because she was thinking about this _medullary cavity_ thing, probably. "I can only 'see' physical things."

"Oh."

"I'm going to go back in. Your ribs are so _interesting_ – can you do that bone-push thing again, only on a rib?"

He nodded once; the request was so simple – in later days, when he was no longer so pathetically _weak_ , he would be able to show her much more, since these things interested her so much and it pleased her to see them.

She pulled her legs under herself so that she was kneeling in front of him and then her hands were on his chest and her chakra was plunging into his system, carrying with it that warmth and the heated push of her curiosity.

Kimimaro moved a leg on either side of her. Her nearness was a lovely thing, it reminded him of that time with the salve, which had almost put him almost in a dream-state; the soft, methodical brushes against his skin, the feel of hands on him that worked only to help and heal him and nothing else – until she had interrupted with the tickling.

He watched the healer-girl's face as she concentrated her chakra scan on the rib that he was splitting into two for her benefit. There was a nervous, quivery, pleasant sort of feeling that tingled somewhere behind his solar plexus when she was close to him like this. He wasn't certain what to make of it – it was strange, but also enjoyable, and he had found himself seeking it more and more often as of late.

It was similar to what he felt for Orochimaru, in that it was a kind of longing, but also, so very different – because Orochimaru, his teacher, his master, weighed heavily somewhere in his gut: respect, reverence, sorrow at having caused disappointment, the ache of sinking hopes and the sting of failure…

But this medic-girl who had brought him back from the precipice of death… this girl with springtime-eyes and soft pink hair and sweet words and sweeter smiles… she was fluttering warmth in his chest, entirely separate from her chakra. She was something else entirely, but what the something else was, he did not know.

He felt the swirl of her chakra at the joint of the old and new rib, then he felt her soft breathing fan out on his face as she leaned in closer to him, flattening both hands to his ribcage.

He found himself unable to resist brushing back a strand of her soft pink hair and sliding his palm against her cheek. This nearness made him want to do something, something involving mouths…

She was withdrawing her chakra. Kimimaro pulled his hand away and sat back against the wall.

VVV

Sakura blinked and was surprised to find herself nestled quite close to Kimimaro, who was staring at her intently.

"Sorry I creeped up on you," she laughed, pulling away from him. "I didn't even notice…"

"I do not mind," said Kimimaro.

Of course he didn't mind – as far as Sakura could understand, he was a complete innocent, and unaware of the implications… implications like Sakura being snuggled up to him on her cot, for god's sake, what if Kabuto had walked in…

Under the pretense of getting a pen and paper to start making some notes on the night's observations, Sakura got up and made for the desk.

"Thanks for the demo tonight," said Sakura as she scribbled away. "That was great."

Kimimaro nodded to her from where he still sat on her cot.

"It's getting late," said Sakura. "You should probably get some sleep."

"I am not tired," said Kimimaro.

"But it's past midnight," said Sakura. "You need rest. You must've done a thousand lunges today…"

He stared at her wordlessly – and, seeing him sitting there all put-together like the grown-up, Kaguya swordsman, Sound ninja, _adult_ that he was, Sakura smiled ruefully, because she could understand him not appreciating her dictating his bedtime.

"Suit yourself," said Sakura. "You're going to be up early tomorrow, though. Kabuto is coming in at 7:00 – I told him you'll be ready to start training. He's been pushing me all week to agree, I'm not sure what this fresh new hurry is, but there we go…"

Kimimaro nodded.

"It'll be in the courtyard. He gave me permission to come out to watch, in case anything happens."

"Oh."

Amused all over again by his fantastic conversational skills, Sakura held back a smile and finished up her notes on her preliminary findings – notes that were comprised more of questions than answers at this point, but.

"Well," said Sakura, closing her notebook with a snap, " _I'm_ going to sleep, even if you aren't."

As she brushed her teeth, Sakura watched Kimimaro in the mirror. He was cracking his knuckles methodically. She smiled around a mouthful of minty foam – Tsunade would go berserk; his joints popped and snapped worse than Sakura's did on a high-risk operation day.

When she was finished washing up, she approached her cot and made a shooing motion with her hands. "I'm going to bed."

"I know," said Kimimaro.

"You're kind of in the way."

"There is enough space," said Kimimaro.

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "No there isn't."

Kimimaro considered her, then considered the cot, as though calculating the possibilities.

"Come on, off you go. Or you'll regret it tomorrow morning."

"I doubt it," said Kimimaro.

His tone was unreadable to Sakura, who found herself puzzled by these words. Kimimaro climbed off of the cot and ran one of his hands down her arm in lieu of saying goodnight.

Sakura turned off the light a few moments later and got into bed. She could feel the warmer spot where he had been sitting.

It took her a long time to get to sleep. The excitement of new discoveries kept her up at first, and then her thoughts turned, as they often did at night when her hands and brains were not being kept occupied, to how long she had been here, and how close or far the Leaf retrieval squad must be at this point – it seemed to her that they were really taking their sweet goddamn time. She had a feeling that the Sound base was exceptionally well-hidden, because this was Orochimaru they were talking about, which probably explained their difficulties – but still…

God, she missed Konoha. She missed Naruto and his wonderful goofy friendship, she missed Ino dearly (a shoulder to cry on, an ear to whisper into about cute boys), she missed Kakashi, she missed Tsunade and her steadfastness and her strength, she missed her patients, she missed the beautiful life that she had built for herself.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura quelled the surge of homesick longing that threatened, now and again, to weaken her resolve with tears. She was going to get out of here one way or another, whether it was by rescue or by finishing up this deal with Orochimaru and getting out of here herself. That was her mantra during these lonely nights; she was going to get out of here, one way or the other.

When sleep did come, it was interrupted, once, by something that sounded like distant screaming – but the sounds were hushed quickly, and, though Sakura stared into the dark with her heart beating fast and listened as hard as she could, she heard nothing else that night.


	5. Chapter 5

Under the blazing heat of an August midday sun, Kabuto and Kimimaro engaged in day five of training.

Though these sessions ended with him being bruised and battered – something that never _used_ to happen, because he _used_ to be so fast – Kimimaro relished them. He revelled in the feel of fighting again, because it was what he was best at; it was what he was _for_.

Kabuto never went easy on him, insisting always on quicker responses, smoother evasions and tighter punch control – all of which was right and good, of course, because only with these improvements would his body be strong enough for Orochimaru to take.

So Kimimaro pushed himself harder and harder, still finding himself surprised when his exertion didn't cause a coughing fit, still amazed that he could move freely again and not risk irreparably damaging a lung… still grateful to the healer-girl who made these things possible. In fact, every increase in his strength these days was mostly thanks to her attentions; it was her chakra that infused his spent and torn muscle fibers and paired up with his kekkei genkai's regeneration to build them back up better than before, it was her that pressed the deep bruises away so that he could move painlessly the next day and keep training as hard, it was her who guided him on with gentle encouragement when he grew exasperated at his weakness, it was her…

He glanced over to where she sat against the wall in the shade of an awning. Her slight figure was curled up; her knees were drawn to her chin and she was staring at nothing in particular. A twig was held loosely in one of her hands and at her feet were a few scribbles drawn absently in the dust. She looked to be deep in thought, which made him curious, because usually she was so attentive – and he wondered what was preoccupying the healer-girl, what was darkening her fairy-green eyes like this…

He paid for his own moment of inattention when Kabuto backhanded him across the jaw. Irritated with himself, Kimimaro shook off the blow and assumed a defensive stance, staring into Kabuto's black eyes with an unspoken promise that he would not be allowing him to do that again. Kabuto must've felt the surge of hostility because he smirked and whispered something about not letting himself get distracted…

They launched at each other, successfully deflected one another's blows, launched again with more ferocity. Kimimaro was reminded how little he liked Kabuto's fighting style, this jumble of various disciplines merged together, lacking any sort of artistry. But, though it was unimpressive visually, it was effective – with this lack of specialization came a lack of predictability that was dangerous.

He had fought with Kabuto enough to know his arsenal, more or less. He knew that in time – perhaps within a few weeks – he would be the stronger of the two of them. And so he took these hits without rancor. Indeed, it seemed to him that Kabuto was the bitter one here, even if he was clearly on top during this particular fight. Kabuto was adding unnecessary force behind his blows and hissing gratuitous remarks from between his teeth and Kimimaro was unsure what, exactly, he had done to cause this mounting dislike. They had never really gotten along, but this was a new level of hostility…

Kimimaro almost lost his footing after a spinning heel kick, which caused Kabuto to snicker. He found himself tempted to push out one of his swords and remind Kabuto which of the two of them was truly superior here, but he reabsorbed it as soon as he felt it passing between his radius and ulna. His healer-girl had warned him not to use his bloodline limit yet; she had explained, in that sweetly patient way of hers, that he needed to learn how to fight again on his own, without depending on reflex action from his Shikotsumyaku. And he trusted her and he believed her, because she had built him back up from nothing and made him live again, and so he resisted the urge to summon his layer of bone armor and create the weapon that could end the fight now.

He and Kabuto broke apart for a moment to remove sweat-soaked clothing.

VVV

Sakura glanced up when the scuffles and grunts ceased and watched the two men peel off their tops. She would give Kabuto a few more minutes of this merciless drilling until she intervened – he was driving Kimimaro far too hard; she had nagged him about it from the first day of training, but he was _really_ exaggerating today…

Shaking her head, she looked away from the two combatants to the ground at her feet. An S was outlined in the dust – she had traced it there in an idle moment this morning when her thoughts had turned, as they often did, to Sasuke.

It weighed on her that neither Konoha nor, apparently, Otogakure, had any idea where he was. From conversations with Kabuto, she had gleaned that he was last seen in the Sound about a year ago, before some tip about his brother had caused him to go gallivanting off again without a by-your-leave – much to Orochimaru's displeasure.

So he probably had no idea that she was here. He probably had no idea what she had done for him – that she had set aside her fiercely-upheld personal and professional ethics and made a deal with public enemy number one – and had brought Orochimaru's killing machine back to life in the process.

As for _why_ she had done it – well, that was a simple answer; Orochimaru would have killed her if she hadn't. And, of course, he had thought the deal tempting to her because he assumed that she still loved Sasuke. Hell, she herself assumed that she still loved Sasuke. Because that was a familiar thing, a constant over the years. But did she really? Perhaps not in the same way as the little girl from eight years ago crushed on the little boy – now she _cared_. She _worried_. It was different.

Sakura passed her hand over the S, obliterating it from the dust.

A breathless grunt caused her to look up: Kimimaro had just blocked a roundhouse by Kabuto with his crossed forearms and was moving to counter it. When Sakura noticed how drenched in sweat he was, she made both him and Kabuto jump with her angry call of " _Kimimaro!_ "

Both men looked at her almost guiltily.

"Go rehydrate," said Sakura sternly. "You're soaked."

She watched Kimimaro go and took advantage of his departure to tell Kabuto to dial it down a notch.

"You're pushing him way too hard," said Sakura. "You need to back off."

Kabuto pushed off his glasses and wiped sweat from his face with his balled-up shirt. "Nah. He can take more."

"No, Kabuto," said Sakura with a frown. "He's taking a break after this. It's been four hours."

"He's fine."

"I'm his primary medic, not you," said Sakura with a little more bitchiness than she intended. "I'm telling you he's _not_ going to be fine if you keep this up. He needs more time to recover between bouts. Yesterday was bad enough, it took me two hours to fix him up again…"

Kabuto ignored her in favour of wiping the sweat his glasses.

"Kabuto? I'm talking to you."

"He'll keep going until I tell him to stop," said Kabuto. "I've got orders."

Sakura's temper began to simmer. She pushed herself to her feet. "What do you mean, you've got orders?"

Kabuto had turned partially away from her, so she stomped over to where he was facing.

"Hello? _I've_ got orders too, to make sure Kimimaro regains his top form in the next –" Sakura counted quickly on her fingers "– four weeks, by my count. What you're doing here is counterproductive to that."

Sakura had interacted with Kabuto enough to know when he was uncomfortable, and he was definitely uncomfortable right now.

"Has something changed?" asked Sakura, reeling her anger back in just a touch. "…Kabuto?"

"Let's just say… let's just say the timelines have been moved up," said Kabuto evasively.

As if his vague answer would satisfy her. He really hadn't gotten to know her very well.

"Excuse me?" said Sakura. "What do you mean, moved up? The timelines were ridiculous to start with… and why wasn't I informed _immediately_?"

Kabuto stared at the wall with his jaw clenched. "Listen. There are things I'm not really supposed to talk about."

"What happened?" asked Sakura. "Is it Orochimaru…?"

There was a silence on Kabuto's part that confirmed that she was right.

"Tell me," said Sakura.

Kabuto slipped his glasses back on and gave her a dark look. "His body is… deteriorating more quickly than our calculations had anticipated."

Sakura blinked at him. "Okay. That's not good. But – you do realize that you're making Kimimaro's body deteriorate too, by pushing him like this?"

"This has become quite – quite _urgent_ ," said Kabuto, visibly choosing his words with care. "And Kimimaro is still not in any shape to be a fit vessel, much less undergo the soul-transfer jutsu – that would kill him at this point."

"So what's your plan, exactly?" asked Sakura. "Burn him out completely? Because that's what it looks like you're trying to do."

"Push him until he is just about strong enough to survive the jutsu. And it's not my plan. It's Orochimaru's. And – no offense, Sakura – but you have all of zero say in it. So when Kimimaro comes back, we're continuing with his training."

"You're making a terrible mistake," said Sakura. "You're risking undoing all of my work on the off-chance that you can push him to be ready in time…"

"As a medic-nin, I agree with you," said Kabuto. "But as Orochimaru's second in command, I follow his orders, so–"

Their conversation was cut off awkwardly by Kimimaro striding back into the courtyard with a gourd of fresh water.

"Finally, you're back," said Kabuto, sliding into a defensive stance and very determinedly not looking at Sakura. "Took you long enough. Let's go."

Sakura fumed in silence as she resumed her seat on the stairs, feeling powerless and incredibly frustrated as she watched Kimimaro – who had already gone above and beyond anyone's expectations in terms of his progress – be pushed even more mercilessly. All towards a hideous end that he wholeheartedly embraced; to become the vessel for another man's soul. As she watched Kimimaro's efforts against Kabuto, Sakura felt heartsick knowing that every push, every kick, every exhaustive effort, was being driven by that twisted motivation.

As she had predicted (of course; she was _always_ right when it came to these things), it was too much for him. Fifteen minutes later, Kimimaro had collapsed onto his hands and knees and was dry-heaving uncontrollably.

Sakura rose to her feet with a palpable aura of anger surrounding her. Pushing past Kabuto, she knelt next to Kimimaro and threaded her chakra into him, stemming the flow of nausea.

Kabuto turned away, obviously not needing her to say _I told you so_ , though the black look that she gave him quite clearly conveyed the message.

"Heal him, and we'll continue tomorrow," said Kabuto.

He met her eyes only briefly and then stalked away, probably to go deliver another negative report to Orochimaru.

Sakura stared down his retreating back with such intense aggravation that she was certain he could feel it. Maybe Orochimaru would just up and die already and they would all be better off for it.

Kimimaro taking an unsteady breath by her ear pulled her attention back to him. She hooked an arm around his shoulders and walked him back to their rooms. He trembled from the day's exertions all the way down the passageway while Sakura muttered about Kabuto's behaviour with increasingly foul language.

"It is not his fault that I am weak," said Kimimaro.

Sakura turned her head slowly towards him, and when he saw the fire of her temper in her eyes, he blinked at her, apparently rather taken aback.

"You are angry," said Kimimaro.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve better than this. You're not weak – in fact, with everything you've been achieving, you're one of the strongest shinobi I know."

"Kind words," said Kimimaro, turning his face to the floor.

"True words," said Sakura. "Believe them."

When they reached the ward, she turned on the shower in Kimimaro's small bathroom and handed him a towel after assuring herself that he was not about to black out and drown.

"I'll fix you up when you've cleaned up," said Sakura, gesturing to Kimimaro's various contusions. "Call me when you're ready – I'll be in the lab."

Kimimaro nodded, wiping sweat from his face with a forearm. Sakura felt a drop flick onto her and rubbed it off, wrinkling her nose.

He noticed. Sakura had a millisecond to observe an ever-so-slightly mischievous twist to his mouth and the next thing she knew, she had her face pressed to his chest in a sweaty one-armed hug.

By the time she could squeal indignantly, Kimimaro had released her and disappeared into his bathroom.

Sakura wiped her face slowly, staring at his closed bathroom door in mute surprise. Apparently the man _did_ have a sense of humour – a strange, stunted sense of humour, but a sense of humour nonetheless. The wonder of it left her blinking at his at his bathroom door for a minute as a bemused smile tugged at her lips.

She shook her head and made for the laboratory. This downtime while Kimimaro was in the shower would provide her with the opportunity to outline a project that she wanted to undertake, one which was fuelled by her curiosity about the Shikotsumyaku. She wanted to take a closer look at the differences between the bones that Kimimaro created and those which were permanent parts of his skeleton.

As she scribbled out a basic methodology, Sakura realized that she was missing a few key components that weren't stocked in the small laboratory. She was in the process of outlining the required items when Kabuto walked in unannounced.

Sakura was still angry with him and demonstrated that this was the case by ignoring him completely. He stood there for a few moments, waiting for her to acknowledge him, until the silence grew too long.

"So…" said Kabuto. "How's he doing?"

Sakura toyed with the idea of continuing to ignore him, which, while immature, was probably the safer route – or she could open her mouth and discover, along with Kabuto, what no doubt entertaining things her heightened temper would cause her to say.

She chose the latter option.

"Oh, you know – he's just washing up blood from his injuries. Blood that he can't afford to lose, and injuries that he didn't need to have."

Kabuto gave her a look. "Sakura–"

"–But you should know that, because you gave him those injuries. Apparently you're a medic-nin, but sometimes, like _right now_ , I'm not so certain, because you sure as hell don't act like one, and come to think of it, I've never seen your licence… oh wait, it was probably _revoked_ like ten years ago…"

Kabuto looked like he was beginning to regret having started this conversation. "How about you just answer my question?"

"I don't know how he's doing," said Sakura, slamming her pen down with unnecessary aggression. "I haven't taken a look at him yet. My guess is he could be doing much better, if he wasn't getting _beaten up_ on a daily basis. What do you think? Hm? As a _medical professional_?"

"You know I–"

"Here's a simple question," interrupted Sakura. "Are you trying to train him, or _brutalize_ him? Because I'm only seeing evidence for the latter, and it's _really_ not sitting well with me."

"I don't have a _choice_ ," said Kabuto through clenched teeth.

Sakura shook her head in disgust. "If you've told Orochimaru the truth about Kimimaro's condition, then he's an idiot for insisting on this course of action."

"Watch yourself."

"An _idiot_ ," repeated Sakura, crossing her arms and staring down Kabuto, daring him to do something about it.

She was so angry that she almost wanted to have a scuffle with him, to let off some steam and give him a few well-deserved punches – not kill him, necessarily, but maybe just a concussion…

"I don't think you quite understand the desperation of Orochimaru's situation," said Kabuto.

"He'll kill Kimimaro if he tries to take him any time soon – which, based on your actions, he really wants to do. Kimimaro still has way too much recovering to achieve before we can consider him ready for that jutsu. Orochimaru has to take another body."

"Do you _really_ think he hasn't considered that option?" said Kabuto with more than a touch of impatience. "Really? He obviously has. He's considered a thousand options. And he wants to keep _that_ option as a last resort. It's Kimimaro's body that he wants _now_ , not someone else's for another three years…"

"Three years would let Kimimaro's body reach its peak, and more," said Sakura.

"I've already made those arguments," said Kabuto. "Believe me."

"Is he going to take your body instead?" asked Sakura, finding her anger momentarily dissipated by curiosity at the thought.

"No," said Kabuto. "Fortunately for me, I don't have a rare bloodline or anything like that. It's my brains that he values, not my body."

"Oh," said Sakura.

"I'm a little offended at how disappointed you look," said Kabuto.

"Good," said Sakura.

Kabuto actually laughed. The sound went a long way towards dispelling the angry tension between them.

"I'm glad I amuse you so much," said Sakura dryly. She handed him the list she had been working on. "To keep you entertained – take this. I'm missing a few things for a test I want to run. Can you see that I get them?"

Kabuto scanned the list. "Of course."

"Thank you."

"Always a pleasure," said Kabuto. "Except when you're actively insulting me."

"You should get used to _that_ ," said Sakura. "As far as I'm concerned, you're a medic-nin in name only… I fundamentally oppose everything about you – your alignment with the Sound, your methods, your philosophy, your morals or lack thereof…"

"Hey, easy on the hate," said Kabuto with a smirk. "You never know. Maybe we'll find common ground someday."

"I _seriously_ doubt that," said Sakura, turning back to her papers in a gesture that showed that she was done with this conversation.

"Too bad," said Kabuto so quietly that it was almost inaudible.

Sakura did not look up at him. She felt him study her intently from behind his glasses for a long moment before he turned and left, shutting the hall door softly behind him.

"What does he mean, when he looks at you like that?"

Kimimaro's toneless voice startled Sakura out of her musings. She turned to find him standing in the doorway, his damp hair framing his face and his towel held at his waist.

"Looks at me like what?" asked Sakura.

"You do not know what I am talking about?"

"No," lied Sakura.

"Perhaps you do not notice," said Kimimaro. "He looks at you like that often."

"Oh," said Sakura – then she immediately wanted to laugh, because Kimimaro's scintillating conversational skills were apparently contagious.

She followed him into the ward, where he made his way towards the shelf upon which his clothes were stored in neat piles. When she realized that he wasn't going to return to the bathroom to change, she turned her back to him and looked for something to keep her occupied – these cotton swabs, they needed to be reorganized, yes absolutely… Also, one day, she would introduce him to the concept of decorum.

After a few moments, the sound of soft material being fitted over a body was replaced by the small squeak of Kimimaro's bed when he sat on it, wearing only boxers.

This was a familiar routine now: after every training session, he was mottled with new injuries, and Sakura healed him back up and chided him about being more careful.

Sakura sent her chakra to her hands and fixed a long laceration across the back of one of his arms that was already partially closed-up by his own regenerative abilities. Then she dissolved the nasty lactic acid buildups that were beginning to take hold of his muscles and would otherwise leave him in debilitating pain the next day.

She tutted when she discovered some overly stretched ligaments in his left shoulder. "You should really be more careful. If I wasn't here this would have taken weeks to heal…"

Kimimaro did not respond; he sat as though in a dream, leaning into her slightly with his eyes half-closed as she kneaded chakra into his shoulder.

"And look at your face," said Sakura, finding the rapidly-darkening bruise left by Kabuto's backhand. "Honestly. I don't understand what they're thinking. This is _not_ helping you get better faster…"

She passed her hand down Kimimaro's jaw line, healing the hurt as she went. He tilted his face into her hand as she did so and Sakura watched as her platonic touch became a caress.

She blinked and stilled her hand. She did not routinely caress her patients, because she was a consummate professional and there were certain boundaries that she didn't cross. But part of her, the nurturing part that truly _cared_ beyond rules and professionalism, kind of wanted to touch this touch-starved soul and maybe alleviate in a small way some of the suffering he had endured…

But here, in this particular set of circumstances, she had to be a consummate professional first. She pulled away her hand, leaving a small part of the bruise unhealed, there by Kimimaro's chin. She decided to let it heal by itself and moved on to some scrapes across the smooth ridges of his abdominal muscles.

For all of the reserve that made him seem almost unreactive to outside stimuli, Kimimaro could be very perceptive. He noticed her momentary hesitation and decision to pull her hand away. Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura watched him poked gingerly at the bruise that remained on his jaw, a blue-black spot, stark against his pale skin.

"You do not like to touch me," said Kimimaro.

Sakura paused in her ministrations. "I'm just… doing my job."

"You would not otherwise."

"No."

Kimimaro's gaze lowered to the floor and Sakura was surprised to find her heart wrench in her chest. She immediately regretted her dry response – this poor man didn't deserve it. He was nothing but respectful and polite with her, even if the company he kept was less than desirable.

She brought her hand back to his face as a kind of unspoken apology and brushed her healing fingers over the rest of his bruised jaw.

And he, of course, understood the gesture, because touches were his language of choice. Their eyes locked and Sakura felt his cheek move with what might have been the tiniest smile.

It was at that moment that Sakura realized that he was quite possibly the prettiest man that she had ever seen.

She let her hand drop to her side, disconcerted by that particular discovery and feeling suddenly shy.

"Okay – I think we're done here," she said, covering her embarrassment with briskness. "Finish dressing. Kabuto should be in with our suppers soon."

Kimimaro didn't answer her, but she felt his steady stare on her until she reached her own room and shut the door.

She was unsurprised to see his neural activity in a heightened state on the monitors in her room and she briefly wondered what her own confused brain's activities must look like at this exact moment.

Sakura sat on her chair and stared at the monitors, where the height of a spike captured that moment when she had given in and touched him again, that moment of happiness…

She had never expected to discover that he was beautiful.

VVV

A few nights later, somewhere in the vicinity of 2:00 a.m., Sakura awoke with a start. Those far away screams that she had heard once before were again echoing through the halls of the Sound base. They were so distant that she couldn't make out whether it was a man or a woman screaming, but they were terrible enough that it was clear the person was enduring unspeakable amounts of pain…

The door between Sakura's room and the ward flew open and Kimimaro's white figure stood there, backlit by the lamp in his room.

"Kimimaro – what is that?"

"I do not know," said Kimimaro.

He made for the hall door and, to his apparent surprise, found it locked.

"Kabuto locks it at night," said Sakura. "Because – you know – I'm a flight risk… it's barricaded by a jutsu, too."

"…Oh," said Kimimaro.

He stood at the door for a few more minutes, listening intently. A heavy silence fell, punctuated occasionally by those far-away howls of terrible agony.

Sakura looked down in the dim light and found that her hands were trembling from the adrenaline of being jolted awake – and from the sheer horror that those screams inspired.

"Are you afraid?" asked Kimimaro.

Sakura looked up and found that he had materialized beside her bed. She pulled her knees up to her chin and tucked her trembling hands behind them. "It's nothing. I was startled. And it sounds – god, it sounds _awful_ …"

Her little cot sank as Kimimaro's weight settled next to her. "Oh."

Sakura noticed that his hands were completely still – and according to her monitors, his heart rate was barely registering an uptick from this disturbance. Her own pulse was most definitely racing right now.

"This doesn't bother you?" asked Sakura.

"No," said Kimimaro.

More screams rang out from that faraway place in the bowels of the base, echoing dully along hundreds of wood-panelled passageways. Sakura shuddered as her mind unhelpfully flicked through all of the possible hideous scenarios that could cause someone to virtually tear out their own vocal chords with the desperate strength of their cries.

Then she felt the warmth of Kimimaro's arm against hers; he was leaning into her now, and watching her face with concern in his deep green eyes.

"Someone is – someone is suffering horribly," said Sakura, pressing her hand to her mouth.

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

"I wish I could help," said Sakura.

"They would have summoned you, if you could," said Kimimaro.

"Probably," said Sakura – though, if the person was a victim of some torture of Orochimaru's or Kabuto's devising, probably not.

Silence fell, and then another long, protracted cry shattered it. Sakura felt herself grow pale; that one sounded like someone in their death-throes…

She turned and pressed her face into Kimimaro's kimono-clad shoulder. The feel of the soft material on her cheek and his clean antiseptic smell were a welcome distraction, a comfort.

And only now did the lines on the monitors tracking Kimimaro's vitals pulse upwards; heartbeats and brainbeats peaking. The sound of another human being dying did nothing to him, but her nearness…

He looked down at her with eyes red-rimmed by the bloodline of killers and his hands found hers and clasped them tightly for lack of words of comfort to offer. She squeezed back, and they sat there in silence, leaning into each other, long after the last screams died out.

VVV

Sakura found herself sleeping slouched against the wall the next morning – apparently she had fallen asleep on Kimimaro and he had managed to disentangle himself without waking her.

It worried Sakura a little when the highly-punctual Kabuto missed their 7:00 a.m. breakfast. It worried her even more when he still hadn't shown up by lunchtime. And by dinner, she was anxious enough that she wouldn't have been able to eat any of the missed meals even if he brought all three of them at once.

Something was wrong.

Kimimaro sensed it too; there was an uncharacteristic unease in his bearing. He paced, then stood at the hall door and listened, then paced again, until Sakura suggested (in a tone that wasn't really a suggestion) that he find something productive to do. She set up a makeshift target in his ward and he whiled away the time shooting bone-bullets at it from his fingertips while Sakura tried (and failed) to read.

The evening wore on and Sakura's patience wore with it.

"I could probably dispel Kabuto's jutsu," said Sakura loudly, staring at the door. "Then I could break us out of here. We could go find him."

Kimimaro poked his head into her room and looked at her warily.

"I'll give him till midnight. Then I'm breaking down the door," said Sakura. "And you can go find Kabuto and figure out what the hell is going on…"

"How will you break the door?" asked Kimimaro with a kind of polite curiosity, like she was being brave by making this pronouncement but he didn't see it translating to reality…

Sakura held up her fist.

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

"One punch," said Sakura. "Maybe two, if they've reinforced it with steel…"

"Oh," said Kimimaro again. His gaze moved from her fist to her svelte arm to her petite form on the cot and Sakura could see that this information was not quite computing.

It almost made her wish that she would have a chance to demonstrate – but the opportunity to show off that particular talent was taken from her by Kabuto's arrival, finally, at around 10:00 p.m.

He looked exhausted. There were bags under his eyes, he was pale, and he seemed utterly drained of both energy and chakra.

"Here," he said, tossing some dehydrated food packets at Sakura.

"And you – come with me," he said to Kimimaro.

Sakura's questions were categorically shut down by the door slamming shut in her face. She stared at it blankly as Kimimaro's and Kabuto's footsteps receded down the hallway.

She bit her lip as she stared at the door. Those screams last night. She had assumed that they were some torture victim's, but – what if they weren't? What if they were – oh, god, what if they were Orochimaru's? What if that's what it sounded like when your rotting body was finally shutting down?

Kabuto had been cautiously hinting at a deterioration, but last night had sounded like a full-on failure…

And now Kimimaro was gone. So that was it, then. They were going to attempt the soul-transfer jutsu, and Kimimaro was as good as dead.

Or maybe not. Maybe he was strong enough by now – he had a will to live like no other person she had ever met. Maybe Orochimaru was going to get the body he wanted. And maybe – maybe that meant that she was done here.

But either way, Kimimaro was gone.

It surprised her, how sick that made her feel.

She hadn't even said goodbye to him. That shouldn't matter, but right now, it did. She hadn't said goodbye, and she hadn't said thank you, for a host of things – for teaching her to be more patient, for letting her earn his trust, for the conversations that had grown less stilted as time went on, for never giving up, which kept her alive as well as him, for being such a comfort to her, last night in the dark…

The door grew blurry as she stared at it. Sakura was surprised to find that tears had collected in her eyes. She blinked them away and forced down some of the rations that Kabuto had left her. She wasn't hungry, but if things were coming to a head tonight, she needed to have some energy in her system.

She also needed to be as well-rested as possible – this was more difficult to achieve as her brain absolutely refused to shut down and only let her doze fitfully through the night, only to awaken her with some nightmare or other every hour.

The possibility making a break for it right now, while Kabuto and Orochimaru were otherwise occupied, tempted Sakura. It wasn't the door or Kabuto's barrier jutsu that stopped her – those she could deal with relatively easily. It was the fear of the unknown, because she had no idea how many Sound nin were around, nor did she actually know how to exit this convoluted maze of a compound, nor did she know if her skills were enough to break through Orochimaru's powerful chakra gates that surrounded the perimeter of the place…

And, of course, there was the fact that, if she escaped, there might be some kind of repercussions on Sasuke. Reprisals. If she didn't follow through with the deal, to the letter, Orochimaru might find some way to twist that fact to his advantage, and Sasuke might be the one to suffer, and she just could not risk that.

So Sakura stayed her fist and glared at the door and wished that it was morning.

VVV

"Kabuto – wait!"

Sakura was half climbing out of her bed, having been awoken by the sound of the door opening. Kabuto had opened it long enough to slide a tray of food inside and was already disappearing through it again.

"Not now," said Kabuto, turning back only long enough to give her a bleak look through his glasses. "Later."

He stepped aside enough to allow Kimimaro to enter the room and then the door was shut with a snap.

Sakura found herself staring warily at Kimimaro – because she wasn't sure that this was actually still Kimimaro.

"What is it?" said Kimimaro in that toneless voice when he noticed her stare.

"Oh –" said Sakura with a surge of relief. "It's still you…"

"Yes," said Kimimaro. He turned away from her and made for his room, and it was clear in his demeanor that to him, this was _not_ something to be celebrated.

So the joyful urge to give him a hug that had seized Sakura subsided quickly. She followed Kimimaro into the ward, more than slightly desperate for information at this point.

"What happened out there? I thought they were taking you away to perform the soul-transfer…?"

"I cannot speak of it," said Kimimaro.

"But what about Orochimaru, is he–?"

"I cannot speak of it," repeated Kimimaro.

Sakura was crowding behind him, annoyed at his height and how his shoulder was preventing her from seeing his face.

"But what about you, what did they need you for, what did they do to you–?"

In less time than it took Sakura to blink, he had pivoted and was gripping her shoulders tightly.

"I. _Cannot_. Speak of it."

Sakura stared up at him, her lips parted in surprise.

"Do not ask me again," said Kimimaro.

Sakura nodded wordlessly, staring at him with wide eyes. He looked down at her and surprised her further by leaning his forehead against hers.

"Please," he said, pain-filled eyes finding hers.

"Are you hurt?" asked Sakura.

"Not in a way that you can help me," said Kimimaro.

He pulled her in closer and closed his eyes and Sakura found herself exchanging slow breaths with him as he mastered whatever he was going through.

Sakura took in the tired lines under his eyes, clearly visible despite the red markings, and the closeness of his mouth, and the warmth of his forehead against hers. She wanted to tell him, then, that she was glad that he was here, and not gone, as she had feared, and that she had many things that she wanted to thank him for, one day…

But these words were entangled with too many complexities – feelings that she wouldn't dare vocalize, realizations that were better off unspoken, for both of their sakes. So instead, she leaned into him and gave him a quick hug.

"I'm glad you're back," she said simply. "That's all I wanted to say."

The hug surprised him into frozen stillness – and then he returned it tightly. When she pulled back from him, he studied her seriously, as though she had just made some kind of revelation to him.

"I was not glad to be back," he said. "But. You…"

Sakura tilted her head at him, waiting for him to finish. He passed a hand down her arm, up and down two or three times, and then he held her hand between his.

"You confuse me," he said.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to," said Sakura.

"I know."

His thumb pressed small circles into her palm and he stared at her like she was the answer to some vast mystery that he couldn't quite decipher.

Eventually he remembered himself and blinked and let Sakura's hand fall from between his.

"I would like to be alone," he said.

Sakura had never been so politely dismissed in her life. She nodded and left the ward, shutting the door softly behind her.

VVV

(Art by Matilda!)

VVV

"So are you ever going to talk to me again in your life, or…?" said Sakura to Kabuto.

It was the third day after the strange events had occurred, and he was still just sliding her and Kimimaro's food into the room and leaving again.

"I'm a _little_ busy these days," said Kabuto in a tone that suggested that this was a massive understatement.

Sakura made for the door and stopped him from closing it with a few fingers – and a few hundred pounds of chakra-boosted pressure.

"Kabuto… can't you find five minutes in your busy schedule for me?" said Sakura. "Please?"

It was the sweet little _please_ , and the prettily batting eyelashes that accompanied it, that did it. That and, probably, the fact that he couldn't actually close the door. Kabuto sighed and came into Sakura's room, seating himself on her chair while she sat cross-legged on her cot.

"There isn't much I can tell you," said Kabuto, slouching tiredly with his elbows on his knees. "Shit went down."

"Is Orochimaru alive?"

Kabuto pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Of course he's alive."

"Is he… okay?" asked Sakura cautiously.

"He's as okay as I would expect him to be."

"What does that mean?" asked Sakura. "What happened to him?"

Kabuto shrugged. "Can't say."

"What happened to Kimimaro? What did you need him for? He won't talk to me."

"Good. He's following his instructions," said Kabuto. "Next question?"

Sakura glared her annoyance at him, which made him chuckle.

"Wow," said Kabuto, passing a hand over his wan face. "I thought I'd forgotten how to laugh. It's been shit. Did I say that yet? It's been shit."

"Anything I can do?" asked Sakura, more out of a desire to find out more about this shit that went down than anything else.

"No," said Kabuto. "As far as you're concerned, nothing's changed. When certain… certain things have – ah – _stabilized_ again, I'll resume Kimimaro's training, and you'll resume your healing. The deal's still on."

Sakura blinked at him. "Oh?"

"Yeah," said Kabuto.

"I'm confused," said Sakura.

"Good," said Kabuto.

"But – I heard screaming a few nights ago," said Sakura.

"So did I," said Kabuto unhelpfully.

"Who was it?"

"I can't talk about it."

"As long as it wasn't Sasuke…"

Kabuto shook his head. "It wasn't. Like I told you, the deal's still on."

"Okay," said Sakura. "Have you – have you heard from Sasuke at all, recently?"

"Not recently," said Kabuto.

Sakura decided to see how far she could press him with this new line of questioning, the only one that he hadn't shut down so far. "Oh. So… what's he like now, anyway?"

Kabuto's tired gaze drifted to her. "Dunno. I guess he's changed since his genin days."

This answer was fantastically useless. Sakura suppressed her irritation and tilted her head at him cutely. "In what sense?"

"He's taller."

Sakura blinked at Kabuto, certain now that he was being dense on purpose. She tried a different angle. "And in terms of personality?"

"I didn't know him when he was a young Leaf," said Kabuto with a shrug. "I don't know what he was like, so I don't know how he's changed."

"Would you call him… nice?"

Kabuto scoffed. "No."

"Then what would you call him?"

"Power-hungry," said Kabuto.

"What else?"

"Violent."

"And?"

"Unbalanced," said Kabuto. "And honestly, a bit of a dickhead."

"I see," said Sakura.

Kabuto scratched his chin. "Oh yeah… weren't you completely infatuated with him? I remember now…"

Sakura shook her head. "I was young and stupid."

"So are you now?"

"Am I what?"

"Still infatuated with him?"

"What's it to you?"

"Curious."

"That's really none of your damn business," said Sakura, feeling more defensive than she would have liked.

Kabuto sat back and contemplated her from behind his glasses. "Right. But let's be honest. Why else would you agree to spend months trapped here to save him from being used as a vessel?"

"Because I would have been killed otherwise? And anyway – anyone in Konoha would have. A few months of this," said Sakura motioning to the three rooms that were her current habitat, "is fine, compared to a lifetime as Orochimaru's vessel."

"Probably not anyone in Konoha," said Kabuto. "You're very… very _noble_."

"Thanks," said Sakura, raising an eyebrow. "…I think."

Kabuto shrugged and Sakura was reminded that he was first and foremost a double-agent. "I'm not sure it's a compliment, either. Noble people die a lot."

"So do traitors," said Sakura.

"So do traitors," agreed Kabuto.

VVV

(Art by kaumalat92 at tumblr)

(art by disperfectionzm at tumblr)


	6. Chapter 6

So Sakura largely failed to find out exactly what had happened that night – though it wasn't for lack of trying. Kabuto and Kimimaro frustrated her to no end with their obstinate silences.

Life returned more-or-less to its version of normal in the Sound base. Kimimaro's training with Kabuto resumed, though Sakura found that there was less desperate urgency in Kabuto's methods now. Because so much of her treatment of Kimimaro had been time-sensitive so far, Sakura nursed a suspicion that Orochimaru might have taken another vessel that night. She just needed some way to confirm it…

If that was the case, it was probably good news all around – because it bought Sasuke three more years… _and_ it bought Kimimaro three more years. On the latter point, Sakura could now admit to herself that she cared enough about Kimimaro that she would have been upset to see him used, even if that was the whole point of this deal in the first place. (It was a troublesome thought, and one which she quashed as regularly as it cropped up.)

Of course, there was always the risk that Orochimaru had indeed taken a new vessel – but that the new vessel was Sasuke, and Sakura was being played for a fool. That was a definite possibility, but Sakura had just enough trust in Kabuto to believe that he wasn't lying to her. Then again, he was a spy and a traitor and a well-practiced liar…

Shaking her head, Sakura pushed these thoughts from her mind. These cyclical arguments weren't useful, and besides, she needed to be concentrating right now…

"Sorry," said Sakura to Kimimaro, who was watching her curiously. "I got distracted…"

"Oh."

"Where was I? Right – so Kabuto has finally brought me the stuff I was missing for the tests I want to run. I can start running them now – so I'll need some bone samples from you. I need just a small part of one of the bones you make with your Shikotsumyaku–"

Before Sakura could finish her sentence, Kimimaro did a modified version of the _Teshi Sengan_ , Ten Finger Bullets, and dropped a perfectly formed distal phalange into her hand.

"– thank you," said Sakura, holding the small white nodule between her fingertips. "And I'll also need bit of your real bones. I think somewhere in your forearm would be ideal for a sample, because I know you heal those especially fast…"

Sakura watched Kimimaro consider his arm as though he would gladly cut it open and extract the sample himself if only he knew how. It was strangely endearing.

Sakura explained the surgery in basic terms as she prepared her materials. Kimimaro appeared to be only half-listening; she caught him staring dreamily at her several times as she spoke to him and touched his arm to show him what was going to be done and where. Her mouth, her eyes, her collarbone, her neck, her hands – all were the subject of his soft, inattentive gaze as she rambled on about her choice of incision technique and sample acquisition methodology. If she didn't know any better about this emotionless man, she'd have wagered money that he was kind of crushing on her right now.

When she was ready, Sakura passed an alcohol swab over the area that she had chosen for her incision and administered a shot of local anesthetic. She rolled a surgical table over, resting Kimimaro's now-desensitized arm onto a thick bed of clean absorbent cotton. Now his interest was piqued; he watched intently when she opened his arm with a sure swipe of her scalpel, deepening the cut with successive strokes. His blood flowed freely, staining the cotton with its bright crimson.

Seeing the white glint of his own radius amidst the red of his exposed flesh must have been quite an interesting experience for Kimimaro, judging by his expression. Sakura supposed that he was so used to manipulating his skeleton internally that he hardly considered what it looked like. She shaved her samples off of his radius and collected them carefully.

The bone began to heal itself before her eyes. It was really quite an amazing process. The way it reformed itself smoothly and flawlessly would be the dream of many a medic to replicate…

"I'm actually jealous of how beautifully that bone healed," said Sakura when Kimimaro's radius had resumed its normal state, with no hint of a scrape-mark or dent.

"Ooh, and it's making for the rest of it," said Sakura with a grin: the incision that she had made in his arm was slowly pulling itself back together – and it was obvious that Kimimaro was not consciously controlling the process, because he was currently staring at her mouth.

Sakura cleared her throat and decided to give his regenerative powers a little boost, for lack of a better thing to do with her hands right now. She placed her fingertips on either side of the cut and pressed chakra into the wound, knitting the flesh back together in sync with Kimimaro's healing. When she wiped away the blood, all that remained was one hair-thin white line, a false scar that would vanish within a few days.

She sterilized her equipment while Kimimaro ran his fingers along the spot on his arm.

"Is it still numb?" called Sakura from the autoclave. "There are probably some traces of anesthetic left in there."

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

"Do you want me to remove it?"

"No," said Kimimaro. Then, by way of explanation, he added, "Not being able to feel is… interesting."

"I see," said Sakura.

"Is this possible for… inside?" asked Kimimaro, placing a hand on his chest.

The question broke Sakura's heart a little, because it was so innocent, and yet it spoke of such profound sadness…

"Like… anesthetic for feelings?" said Sakura. "No. And even if it was, I wouldn't do that to you."

"Why?"

"Because there are good things to feel too."

"It's not worth it," said Kimimaro.

"We're going to have to agree to disagree on that one," said Sakura.

She ferried her supplies back to the laboratory, where she carefully hid the anesthetic packets away. The last thing she needed was Kimimaro getting funny ideas.

VVV

A few hours later, Sakura was absorbed in her work in the laboratory, observing the differences between Kimimaro's natural bones and those produced by the Shikotsumyaku. It was fascinating stuff; the Shikotsumyaku bones were composed of almost pure calcium hydroxylapatite and devoid of the spongy trabecular tissue that characterised normal bones, which explained their hardness, and even more fascinating, instead of blood vessel networks in the marrow, it looked like they were crisscrossed by fine chakra pathways.

Sakura was observing some slides under the microscope when her neck threatened to seize into a torticollis for the third time that day. Groaning under her breath, she stepped back, intending to crack her neck – but she found herself bumping into something warm and solid instead.

She inhaled sharply and turned to find Kimimaro looking over her shoulder at the microscope with some interest. God knew how long he'd been there…

"Kimimaro," breathed Sakura. "You scared me."

"I did not want to disturb you. You seemed occupied," said Kimimaro. He pointed to a discarded slide. "What is that?"

"Well, just poke me or something next time," said Sakura, willing her heartbeat to slow down.

She took the slide that he had pointed to and held it up to the light between them, showing him a minuscule speck in the glass. "And as for this – it contains a tiny, thinly sliced fragment of your bullet-bone. You see it there?"

When he nodded, Sakura snapped the slide in place in the microscope and leaned in to adjust the focus. "And then, using the microscope, I can look at it on a cellular level and compare it to the bones that make up your skeleton, like the one I took from your arm earlier."

Sakura felt him approach to take a look with his usual disregard for personal space.

"I'll get out of your way," said Sakura as he leaned over her shoulder and cast a look into the eyepiece. She attempted to move over sideways to give him room but she found her progress halted by his hand on the workbench.

"You are not in my way," said Kimimaro into her ear.

Sakura did not expect the shivers that danced their way down her arms. You know, the kind of shivers you get when an exceptionally handsome man whispers sweet nothings into your ear, but then again, you aren't supposed to be enjoying it, because he's your patient, and technically an enemy nin…

"I like being near you," said Kimimaro in his toneless, matter-of-fact way, as he stood behind her with his chin resting on her shoulder.

"…Oh," said Sakura.

Also, she was officially a little bit flustered.

Kimimaro peered into the microscope, but it did not seem to hold quite the same fascination for him as it did for her; he pulled back with a detached look.

As for Sakura, she felt like the room had become quite warm all of a sudden. Making a show of finding her box of cover slips empty, she barged past Kimimaro's arm to fetch some more. He followed her, casting looks of mild interest at the equipment and materials arranged in organized rows on the counters.

"You said there are good things to feel," said Kimimaro while Sakura practically climbed into a storage cabinet to get away from him and hide her confused feelings.

"…Yes," said Sakura.

"Tell me about them."

Sakura wondered whether she should recommend to Kabuto that he abduct a psychologist next, because she was _so_ not equipped to deal with this man's issues…

"They're… nice," said Sakura. She pulled out a box of new cover slips and felt more than heard the unimpressed puff of breath that Kimimaro exhaled behind her.

Which meant that, once again, he was way too close. Sakura turned, intending on turning this into a teaching moment about personal space – but when she saw the look in his eyes, she couldn't. He was seeking her out, because he trusted her – and he only wanted to be near her, which was so innocent and so profoundly vulnerable all at once…

Kimimaro was truly a wonder: here was a man whose bloodline limit would make him virtually indestructible at full health, a man whose entire life had been focused on killing and his own inescapable death by disease, and yet, here he was, following her around like a lost puppy and trying to understand "good feelings."

Sakura sighed. He was too close to her, but unaware of it. Attracted to her, but clueless about it. But how could she chastise him for these things, things that were the result of a life that no-one should have had to live…

"Oh, you know – hope, happiness, love – those the kinds of things that are worth feeling," said Sakura. "The good feelings."

"I do not know much of those things," said Kimimaro.

"You will," said Sakura, feeling her heartstrings tugging away because this was such a wretched statement for anyone to make.

"I am not sure," said Kimimaro. "But."

He raised his right forearm between them, the one that Sakura had operated on earlier. Their eyes rested on the thin white line that marred his skin.

"Can you remove it?"

"The scar? Oh, it'll disappear in a few days," said Sakura.

"No," said Kimimaro. "The rest of the anesthetic."

Sakura blinked. "Oh… yes, of course I can."

She summoned chakra to her fingertips and drew them along the scar, dissolving the remainder of the anesthetic. Kimimaro faded into some daydream or other under her touch until she was done.

He extended his arm, flexed his fingers and rotated his wrist as sensations flowed once again.

"I believe you," said Kimimaro.

Sakura had been watching his mannerisms curiously. She looked into his eyes. "About?"

"It is better to feel."

VVV

The next morning, Sakura was just about ready to hop in the shower when she realized that she had left some of Kimimaro's bone samples soaking in the pycnometer. Where was her head today? Her mineral density test results were going to be screwed if she oversaturated them…

Grumbling to herself, Sakura pulled her clothes back on but left the shower running, planning on being back in there within a few minutes. It was highly uncharacteristic of her to make this kind of airheaded mistake, so she was in a grouchy mood when she stalked past Kimimaro, who was throwing bone knives at a dartboard in his room, and threw open the door of the laboratory.

She wouldn't have thought it was odd that Kabuto was in the lab, really, if it wasn't for the fact that he practically jumped out of his skin when she walked into it.

And the fact that he had a handful of pages from one of his own notebooks crumpled in his fist, and was in the process of tearing more out when she caught him.

They stared at each other.

"Weren't you… showering?" said Kabuto, looking awkwardly from Sakura to the papers balled into his hand.

"… I forgot I left stuff in the pycnometer," said Sakura, pointing at the large vial in question.

"Ah," said Kabuto. Then he shrugged and, evidently having made peace with the fact that he had been caught red-handed, he pulled out a few more pages from the notebook and proceeded to shred them methodically.

"So…" said Sakura, "something I didn't need to know?"

"Pretty much," said Kabuto, stuffing the bits of paper into his pocket.

Sakura glanced at the notebook in question. Kabuto probably had no idea just how thoroughly she had read all of his materials – and just how much she had committed to memory. If he would just leave the notebook there, she should be able to figure out what material he had just removed…

"Well," said Sakura, pulling the bone samples from the pycnometer and setting them to dry. "Don't let me disturb you."

"I'm just about done," said Kabuto. He clapped the notebook shut and replaced it on the shelf. "Crisis averted."

Sakura busied herself with her samples and pretended not to have taken exact note of where that particular notebook had ended up among the hundreds squeezed into the shelf.

"Great," said Sakura. "My crisis is averted too – I almost messed up my mineral density test."

"Great," said Kabuto.

"So I'm going to go back to my shower now," said Sakura. "So – feel free to continue damaging valuable medical records."

Kabuto shook his head darkly and brushed passed her, muttering about guilt trips.

VVV

Late that night, Sakura made her way back into the laboratory, intent on salvaging the remainder of the notebook that Kabuto had expurgated. She passed through Kimimaro's ward as silently as possible, not wanting him to wake up and ask awkward questions, such as why she was creeping around in the dark…

Once in the laboratory, she felt her way over to the shelf crammed full of notebooks. By the glow of her chakra, she was able to find the spot where she thought Kabuto had shoved it back in. She grabbed five of the booklets, unsure which one of them, exactly, was the damaged one. She would check more closely when she got back to her room.

Leaving the dark laboratory behind her, she made her way back through the ward carefully, avoiding the wires that crisscrossed the floor here and there, and making a mental note to get Kabuto to get rid of them – Kimimaro was healthy enough that the monitoring system really wasn't necessary any more.

She skirted a particularly thick cable and was almost at the door to her room when a blade pressed against her throat. It slid when Sakura gave a reflexive jerk and she felt the sting of a cut. She smelled something soapy with a tinge of an antiseptic hospital scent.

"Kimimaro. It's just me," said Sakura, her voice a whisper constricted by nerves. And somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice was telling her what an idiot she was for sneaking around a shinobi's room at night…

He released her as soon as he heard her voice and Sakura switched on the lights.

"Sorry about that," she said with a shaky laugh. "I… needed these notes and I didn't want to disturb you."

The notebooks in her trembling hands were the least of his concern. Sakura watched his eyebrows contract when he looked at her neck.

"I hurt you," said Kimimaro, stricken. He dropped his bone dagger; it stuck into the floor point-first. His eyes were riveted to the thin stream of blood leaving a bright trail against Sakura's skin.

Sakura had never seen him look so appalled. She passed a hand along the cut and sealed it quickly.

"It was my fault. And anyway, it didn't even hurt. You have some sharp blades…"

"Please. Permit me," said Kimimaro, reaching for her neck.

If only to help alleviate some of his consternation, Sakura let him wipe up the trickle of blood that remained with the sleeve of his kimono. His hand lingered there afterwards and Sakura felt the warmth of his fingers make their way up her neck slowly, gently.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, still apparently reeling in dismay.

"Kimimaro, it's fine – honestly, it's fine. Listen, I'd better go do my reading… that was the whole point of this excursion, you know."

He dropped his hand and Sakura circled around him to go to her own room. She put the notebooks on the desk and sat in her chair, still feeling the ghosts of his touches lingering on her neck.

He was watching her, leaning against the door that separated their quarters. Sakura sorted through the notebooks and found a likely-looking one, thinner than the others and with a slightly damaged spine. She flipped it open and proceeded to ignore Kimimaro, hoping that if she pretended to be engrossed in her reading, he would lose interest and go away. This was by and large a failure; he remained stubbornly at his post and watched her.

Sakura opened her mouth to tell him to get some rest, but he interrupted before she could formulate her sentence.

"What are you reading about?"

The truth – that she wanted to discover what Kabuto was trying to hide from her – was obviously unsuitable.

"Um, just some things on–" Sakura glanced at a word at random on the page, "–licks."

In the doorway, Kimimaro's eyebrows rose.

Sakura blinked and scanned the paragraph in question: _Licks do not create the same effect as bites._ This notebook had information about the cursed seals, and apparently some sub-forms of cursed seals could theoretically be formed by licking the skin instead of puncturing it with teeth.

"Licks and their relation to cursed seals, you see here," said Sakura, pointing at the paragraph and feeling herself blush, because bullshitting wasn't her forte. "Just some… some light bedtime reading, you know."

"Oh."

Sakura thought that she saw him frown, but when she focused on him again, his face was as impassive as always. She turned away from him and flipped the pages of the notebook, reading through the rest quickly. So that was it. Kabuto had removed a largish chunk relating to cursed seals – the heaven and earth seals in particular. The earth seal was the one Kimimaro had had. And the heaven was… Sasuke's.

She tried to piece together what she remembered about them. She knew their power levels were greater than the other seals. But what else… rubbing her temples, Sakura wished she had paid more attention when reading this particular set of notes, but cursed seals hadn't seemed particularly relevant when Kimimaro's lungs were rotting away…

She wondered if she could risk asking Kimimaro about them. Would he be suspicious? Would he think she was somehow trying to get information to use against Orochimaru? Would he even know anything at all? Would he tell Kabuto that she had asked about this?

No… no, he probably would not tell Kabuto. Sakura had noticed that Kimimaro's interactions with Kabuto had become rather strained as of late.

Sakura decided to go ahead and ask. Any tidbit that Kimimaro dropped could potentially be of great importance to her, especially in figuring out Orochimaru's game.

She pivoted on her chair, a pensive look on her face. "Kimimaro… can you tell me a little about your seal? These notes are incomplete."

Kimimaro approached, his eyes on the notebook in front of Sakura.

"Incomplete?" he said, flipping through the pages. He arrived at the missing section. A small scrap of paper fluttered out of the spine.

"These have been torn out," said Kimimaro.

Sakura resisted the urge to thank him sarcastically for his detective work. "Oh?"

"But you know this."

"Well, I–"

"What did you want to know?"

"Could you – could you tell me anything about the heaven cursed seal?" asked Sakura.

Kimimaro studied her. "No."

"Can't, or won't?"

"Won't."

Sakura nodded with a wry smile. So Kimimaro wasn't going to be cooperating with her information gathering. She would find other ways.

Kimimaro rubbed unconsciously at his collarbone through his kimono. Sakura watched him lose himself in meditative musings and concluded that her subversive interrogation session was over – and had also been a complete failure. It was a good thing that she was a medic; she would leave the intel-gathering to Ino…

Sakura pushed the notebooks away from her, her disappointment obvious in her face. Then she felt Kimimaro's warm hand on hers. He traced her hand from fingertips to wrist. She looked up at him.

"There are six seals that I know of. The Sound Four had water, wind, fire and thunder," said Kimimaro, pressing each of Sakura's knuckles as he enumerated the seals.

Sakura nodded; she remembered those four shinobi, they had almost killed Shikamaru and half of the Konoha 11, years and years ago.

"There are two other cursed seals," continued Kimimaro, "stronger in power and more difficult to survive and control. Two have received the heaven – the Uchiha and the one called Mitarashi Anko. I received the earth. They are called sister seals, the cursed seal of earth and the cursed seal of heaven… and they are equal in power."

Sakura nodded slowly, hoping that Kimimaro would go on. But he withdrew his hand from hers and with that the conversation ended.

"Thank you," said Sakura. She filed this information away; it would be something to mull over in the dark hours of the night.

For the second time that evening, Kimimaro's hand unconsciously touched at his kimono where it covered his collarbone.

Sakura found herself staring at the spot. Something had just occurred to her.

"I need you to take that off," said Sakura suddenly, pointing at Kimimaro's kimono.

Kimimaro stared at her, slightly wide-eyed.

"Now," said Sakura.

Kimimaro shook his head and took a step back. Sakura pushed herself off of her chair and strode towards him; his reactions were all but confirming her suspicion…

His hands tried to catch hers, but she surprised the hell out of him when she snatched both of his wrists and held them in an iron grip that no-one – except maybe Tsunade – would ever be able to break.

With her other hand she pushed his kimono off of one shoulder, then the other – and he stared at her with rising dread.

There. The spot just below his collarbone.

It was as pale as the rest of him, and unmarred by the black lines of the cursed seal of earth.

Sakura pressed her fingers to the spot, not quite believing her eyes.

The seal was gone.

"Your seal," said Sakura, staring at Kimimaro and daring him to try to lie. "Where is it?"

"You know I cannot –"

"Orochimaru removed it," said Sakura, her eyes ablaze with the anger that accompanied the certainty that she had been betrayed. " _Why_ did he remove it?"

"I told you, I cannot speak of this," said Kimimaro. There was a slight desperation in his voice.

Sakura dropped his wrists – she was so furious that she might otherwise squeeze them to pieces. She balled up her hand and pressed her fist to the nearest wall – it was only a touch, a lovetap, really, and it caused a two-inch split to form instantly from the floor to the ceiling.

Kimimaro stared at the crack, then at Sakura, in mute silence. He pulled his kimono back on slowly.

Sakura was fuming. She stormed back to the desk and grabbed the notebook, flicking through the rest of its useless pages. Kimimaro didn't have the seal any more. Sasuke still had his seal. This mean that Kimimaro wasn't in line to be a vessel anymore… while Sasuke most definitely was.

Sakura dropped her head into her hands and let out a muffled stream of curses at Orochimaru, at Kabuto, and at Otogakure, under her breath.

Somewhere behind her, she heard the sound of Kimimaro approaching with uncertain footsteps.

"You are angry," said Kimimaro.

"Yes," said Sakura.

"Are you angry with me?" asked Kimimaro.

" _Yes_ ," said Sakura.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Kimimaro stare at the floor and look beautifully pathetic. Sakura huffed and turned away from him.

"I've been betrayed," said Sakura.

"I do not think so," said Kimimaro. "But I am not allowed to speak of it."

"You should go," said Sakura. "Before I say some things that you probably don't deserve, and that I'll probably regret."

Kimimaro was looking at her like a kicked puppy, which somehow made her even angrier.

He made his way to his own quarters slowly after a parting caress on her arm.

VVV

(Art by ask-multisaku at tumblr)

_"Because there are good things to feel too."_

_"It's not worth it," said Kimimaro._

_"We're going to have to agree to disagree on that one," said Sakura._

(Art by enecola at tumblr)


	7. Chapter 7

"We have a problem," said Sakura when Kabuto came in with breakfast the next morning.

"Only one?" said Kabuto with a tired kind of smile.

When he saw the look on Sakura's face, the smile faded. Then he spotted the new crack in the wall and he sobered right up.

"I'm embarrassed that it took me this long to notice," said Sakura. "But I did, finally, notice."

"Notice what?"

"Kimimaro's seal," said Sakura. "It's gone."

Somewhere below her simmering anger, Sakura admired Kabuto's nerve. He didn't even blink. "Is it, now."

"Yes," said Sakura. " _Why_ is his seal gone?"

"You know," said Kabuto, "there are so many things I'd _love_ to talk to you about, but you have the art of choosing the ones that I _can't_ talk to you about."

"Does Sasuke still have his seal?"

Kabuto looked away and didn't answer.

Sakura's eyes blazed at him. "Orochimaru always seals his potential vessels. The seals vest them with some of his power, they give him more control over them, they make it easier to take over their bodies. That's what was in the notes that you tore out. Kimimaro now no longer has a seal. I can only conclude that that means that he will no longer be a vessel."

Kabuto stared at the floor-to-ceiling split in the panelling and said nothing.

"But Sasuke still has _his_ seal. You're a smart guy, Kabuto. I'm sure you can see how this would make me a _little_ suspicious."

"I told you, the deal is still on," said Kabuto.

"Is it? Is it _r_ _eally_?" said Sakura. "Am I supposed to believe that Kimimaro is still going to be used as Orochimaru's next vessel? Even without the seal?"

"Look – I can't tell you details about this stuff. But you can figure it out on your own."

"Oh? How? Please, _e_ _nlighten me._ "

"You just said that the seals vest the recipients with some of Orochimaru's power."

"And?"

"And you heard screaming. You heard someone at the end of the line."

"I'm not following, so you'd better hurry up and explain," said Sakura. Her fist was clenched and her patience was running very, very low.

Kabuto stared at her from behind his glasses for a moment, as though trying to formulate exactly what he could tell her. "Orochimaru's body was dying. He needed all the help he could get. So he divested Kimimaro of the seal, to take that bit of power back, to survive the night, to survive the–"

Here Kabuto stopped abruptly.

"The soul-transfer jutsu?" asked Sakura.

Kabuto shrugged. "That might be the conclusion I'd come to, if I was putting these pieces together."

"So he _has_ taken another body."

It was as though Kabuto didn't dare speak the words and confirm it. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"But you promise – you _swear_ it isn't Sasuke."

"It isn't goddamn Sasuke."

Sakura dropped onto the cot and sighed with relief. "So – so Kimimaro will receive the seal again, at some later point?"

"At some _much_ later point," said Kabuto. "We have years to play with now, not months. Unfortunately."

Sakura looked up in sudden realization. "Orochimaru – he must be pissed that he had to use a substitute."

"You have _no idea_ ," said Kabuto with a dark look. "I'm only grateful he's still recovering so he can't slaughter us all out of spite…"

He was deadly serious. Sakura stared at the floor.

"We had a lot riding on Kimimaro being the one," continued Kabuto in a low voice. "A lot of planning went into it. You were the only element we couldn't plan around until we could bring you in – which wasn't an easy task; you probably don't even realize how well-protected you are. Obviously, we waited just a little too long…"

"Is Orochimaru blaming this on me?"

Kabuto considered her for a long time before answering. "I think he knows that it's not your fault. He knows you did everything you could, in the circumstances…"

"He couldn't impose an impossible deadline on me like that. You _know_ medicine doesn't work like that."

Kabuto readjusted his glasses. "I know. And so does he. I think he was just – well, hoping for a miracle, at that point. When you've been planning something for years and then your body gives out before it was supposed to…"

Silence fell between them. Sakura had started this discussion full of self-righteous anger, but now she found herself feeling quite subdued and, truth be told, a little afraid.

"So he had to take another body because I didn't heal Kimimaro fast enough," said Sakura. "Am I even going to get out of here alive?"

Kabuto leaned against the desk with his arms crossed. "Yes. At least, I think so. It's hard to know with him."

"That's not very comforting."

"Stick to the terms of the deal," said Kabuto with a shrug. "That's your best course of action. We'll talk again when you've gotten Kimimaro to peak performance. If you do an excellent job – which you will – Orochimaru will still have a reason to be grateful to you."

Sakura sighed. "That's going to be _weeks_. I've already been here for _months_."

"I know," said Kabuto.

The thought of more time in Sound drained Sakura to the core. "Can you at least – send a message to Konoha and tell them I'm okay?"

"You know I can't do that," said Kabuto.

"How close have they come to finding me?"

She didn't expect the self-satisfied smirk that Kabuto gave her in response to her question.

"Well, I sent them on a merry chase in Stone for weeks," said Kabuto. "Then I planted a false trail in Mist that kept them busy… then I sent them back to Stone again, for shits and giggles. And now I think they've finally clued in, so they're back in Konoha and – how did they put it? – _regrouping_."

Sakura stared at him bleakly. Just when he managed to make himself likeable, he would show his true colours all over again. She could only imagine Tsunade's anger, Naruto's impatience, Kakashi's quiet frustration…

"I think regrouping means deciding whether or not to give up, at this point. They've wasted a lot of time and resources on my wild goose chases…"

"They won't give up on me," said Sakura.

Kabuto fiddled with his fingerless gloves. "Sure. We'll see if that holds true when they find your body."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, not your _real_ body," said Kabuto with another smirk. "Making corpses look exactly like someone else is kind of a hobby of mine…"

There was something in the way he said this that made Sakura's skin crawl. This meant that somewhere in the Sound base there laid a cadaver that he was fixing up to look just like her, and leaning over in the darkness with those glasses glinting…

With a barely suppressed shudder, Sakura turned away from Kabuto.

He watched her for a long moment before he remembered himself and went to fetch Kimimaro to begin his day's training.

VVV

A few hours later, Sakura watched the two men train in the sun-flooded courtyard. She was equally irritated with both of them, so after a few of their scuffles landed a little too close to her (Kabuto stepped on her foot and narrowly avoided a black eye for his troubles), she got up and stalked away to the other end of the dusty square, where a passage led to a greater courtyard.

Sakura knew that she wasn't, strictly speaking, supposed to go beyond the small courtyard. But today she was pissy, and besides, Kabuto and Kimimaro were so engrossed in their training that they wouldn't notice her talking a little walk…

It felt strange, after having been in close quarters for so long, to see the vastness of the sky open up above her. Sakura wandered into the middle of the larger space. Above her soared a great wall, perhaps thirty feet high, above which she could see the tops of trees rustling cheerfully in the breeze. She did not recognize the trees by shape or colour; they looked darker than those typical of Konoha, and leafier, too. Ino would know what kind of trees they were – but Ino was far away, and she probably thought that Sakura was dead.

The thought was a sad one, and Sakura found herself feeling cold despite the blazing sun. Cold and bereft. She wrapped her arms around herself and sighed.

VVV

Sasuke slowed his rush through the trees as a twinge from his seal told him that he was approaching the Sound base. To all appearances, the area ahead of him was simply more trees dancing in the breeze. It was a skillful use of genjutsu by Orochimaru, one which replicated everything from rough bark textures to sounds to a few sparrows fighting over a beetle.

This was the beauty of Orochimaru's base – you could be in it, walking through the innermost areas, and not know it. Only those of extreme sensitivity to genjutsu might detect it, and even then it would only be a vague blur, a suspicion. Another option would be eyesight which could see underneath the underneath – the Byakugan or the Sharingan, if they were honed enough.

Sasuke activated his Sharingan and began the process of not just looking but _seeing_. He had to unbelieve what his eyes were telling him, focusing instead on what his mind knew was there. And so the false trees vanished slowly, merging together to make a wall. A shadow on the ground elongated and rose to form a door. Another blink, and Orochimaru's headquarters rose above Sasuke once more.

It had been a while – a year, perhaps? He did not know. Didn't particularly care either. Months spent killing and fighting in a constant search for more power, still more power – they all merged into one vague bloody memory, not particularly worthy of reflection.

Sasuke took a moment to thread his chakra into the surrounding area. Orochimaru's security jutsus were programmed to ignore the combination of his chakra signature and the seal.

A leap took him to the top of the wall, where he perched to survey the compound before entering. All was quiet.

Movement at the foot of the wall below him caught his attention. What was this? A little pink-haired woman wandering around in the courtyard?

Sasuke squatted, peering down with Sharingan-enhanced vision. Wasn't that… that girl from years ago? The one who had been on his team? No, it couldn't be. It must be some trick of Orochimaru's, some mockery of Sasuke's past bonds, or otherwise some test. He looked for the tell-tale signs of a body-double, or of a replication jutsu – but no, the girl did not waver in and out of reality under the scrutiny of his Sharingan. She was the real thing.

Whatever Orochimaru was thinking, bringing this girl here… Sasuke's lips twitched. He would be quick to show Orochimaru that attempts to catch him off guard with remnants of his past life would be fruitless. Those ties had long since decayed, frayed and torn by his ambition.

And he did not regret.

He moved in with the easy push of his feet against the wall-top.

VVV

Sakura passed a hand along the dusty wall, feeling the threads of dozens of intricate protective and defensive jutsus pulsing through it. Orochimaru's skills were certainly impressive: trying to unpuzzle these would be a decade-long affair. There were so many levels, so many possible triggers, and with them hundreds of potential reactions, from simply alarms to – yes, she felt it there – myriads of illusionary devices. Sakura was glad that in the first few weeks of her capture, she had not been stupid enough to attempt an escape. It would've been the last thing she had ever done.

She heard the soft thud of somebody landing behind her. She turned and found herself looking at a man, a man who was strangely familiar to her, with his black hair and his proud stance and his eyes… oh god, those red eyes…

Sakura found herself reeling in shock. It was Sasuke.

" _Sakura_. This is a surprise," said Sasuke as Sakura stared at him with her mouth hanging slightly open.

His voice had matured; it was deeper now, and more devoid of emotion than ever. And he was tall, and the soft contours of his boyish face had been replaced by hard lines, bisected by the sunken cheeks and dark patches of one who does not sleep peacefully.

And his eyes… there was nothing human in those eyes. As a boy they were cold and confused, those of a lost child – now they were empty, Sharingan-red, and burning empty. Sakura felt her mouth go dry. It looked like Sasuke's precious fragment of humanity had been consumed entirely. This did not bode well.

"Have you, too, fallen to the temptation of the Sound?"

"No," Sakura said forcefully. "Never. I'm here to finish a deal with Orochimaru."

Sakura shifted to face Sasuke fully and found herself unconsciously taking on a more defensive stance. Waves of his hostility were making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"A deal with Orochimaru. _You_. Who would've thought."

Of all the ungrateful wretches… Sakura clenched her jaw. "It wasn't for my benefit."

"Oh?" said Sasuke. "Then whose?"

"Yours."

"Mine?" Sasuke's handsome face was split by a smile and there was mockery in it. "I can hardly see myself needing any sort of help from you."

Sakura recoiled at the asperity of his tone. Surely… surely this could not be the same Sasuke.

"So tell me more about what this deal for my benefit entailed," said Sasuke, crossing his arms and contemplating her.

"It was to prevent your being used as a vessel."

"That's very thoughtful," said Sasuke.

Sakura was at a loss. In all of the scenarios she had imagined relating to when she saw Sasuke again, she had never considered that she might have difficulty determining whether he was friend or enemy.

She was struck by a sudden thought – could it be that this was already _not_ Sasuke, but Orochimaru in Sasuke's body? Had he broken the deal? This was the only plausible explanation for his behavior, wasn't it?

"Orochimaru… you bastard," said Sakura.

Sasuke exhaled an amused huff when he understood the implication. "No. I'm still myself, Sakura. For the time being."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know what your little… bargain with Orochimaru involved, but it might all have been for nothing."

Sakura narrowed her eyes. "Meaning?"

"Orochimaru in my body will create an unstoppable combination."

"I see. So you still haven't killed your brother."

His mouth twisted bitterly. "No. I haven't."

"You would give your body to that… to that _filth_ …"

"If I have to."

"But I wanted to save you, I – I don't understand. You're not the Sasuke I knew, he would never–"

"You hardly knew me."

"I knew you enough."

Sasuke cocked his head to the side. "You haven't changed. You're still annoying. And naïve."

Sakura said nothing; bitterness was constricting her throat.

And then, out of nowhere, a feverish light began to fill the Sharingan-red eyes. "I do have to wonder, though – is your presence here some sort of test? Does Orochimaru want to see what I do with my old bonds?"

Sakura felt the rush of his chakra as he focused it into his palm. She watched him create a chidori and raise it level with her head. Disbelief flooded through her. No. No, this had to be some sort of nightmare – Sasuke would never hurt her. He would never do this, never…

One look into the crimson eyes behind the crackling mass of energy told her that he would. He was lost to his own mania, his obsession had overcome rationality. Sakura's instincts took over, she crouched defensively and began to form a chakra shield as he lunged.

She braced for an impact that never came. When she opened her eyes, Sasuke was face-down on the floor at her feet, knocked violently off-balance by a figure in white.

Sasuke got up slowly, turning to find Kimimaro watching him impassively.

He gave a disbelieving snort, nonplussed. "Kaguya."

"Uchiha."

Their eyes locked. Sakura shuddered at the death intent that radiated where angry red met intense green. Orochimaru's two most prized ninja looked ready to slaughter each other.

"I thought you'd be long dead by now," said Sasuke, brushing dust off of himself.

"Orochimaru did not want to lose my abilities."

Sasuke smirked at him. "Ah. Still bitter because you aren't the next vessel?"

"I have moved on."

Sakura felt a ringing in her ears. Orochimaru… that asshole might have had the decency to mention that Sasuke was more than willing to be his vessel, when they made their deal…

"I thought your disease was incurable."

"One medic was able to heal me."

"Kabuto's improved, then," said Sasuke.

Kimimaro shook his head. "Her."

Sakura felt Sasuke's attention focused once more on herself. She met his eyes with a steady glower and, with difficulty, held back the fist that could pummel him into a gore-filled hole in the ground.

"Cute," said Sasuke. He moved towards Sakura, but stopped when the sound of Kimimaro pushing out a bone sword echoed softly throughout the courtyard. The two of them locked stares once again – Sasuke reforming his chidori while Kimimaro twirled his sword in quiet anticipation.

"What is this, exactly?" said Sasuke, looking from Kimimaro to Sakura. "Found someone else to cling to now that you're not the favorite?"

"Don't touch her."

"Since when do you care about anyone but Orochimaru?"

"He does not want her dead."

"He doesn't want you dead either. So put away your pointy stick, Kaguya."

Kimimaro gave a smirk of his own, the first that Sakura had seen on his usually expressionless features. A chill ran down her spine.

A soft clicking noise told her that, somewhere below his skin, Kimimaro's bone armour had just formed, harder than steel.

"That chidori is useless against me, Uchiha."

Sasuke's jaw clenched. "Is it? Let's find out."

They never did find out. Kabuto's arrival between the two of them disrupted the launch of what would have been a fight for the ages: two survivors of prized bloodlines, two prodigies, two killing machines and the seals of heaven and earth…

Kabuto had his hands on the necks of both Kimimaro and Sasuke, and both of them must have been aware enough – and wary enough – of his nerve attacks to not dare move.

"Sakura. Go back to your quarters," said Kabuto.

Sakura was furious at being so easily dismissed, but the look on Kabuto's face made her decide not to argue.

VVV

Late that night, Sakura tossed and turned with irritated twists, unable to sleep. Her brain worked continuously, turning newly-uncovered facts over and over. She berated herself for not having considered the fact that Sasuke might _want_ to be a vessel. She who was so careful to look at all possibilities, so careful to consider every option… how had she not considered this?

The answer was obvious – because who would have guessed that Sasuke's juvenile desire for revenge would grow into this, this thirst for vengeance that consumed him to the point where he would give up his body to Orochimaru, just to have enough strength to kill his brother… it was insane. No-one could have predicted this. In all of her endless discussions with Naruto on the subject, never once did they suspect that he would be so far gone – he was their classmate, their teammate, their friend… a grouchy ass, sometimes, and meaner than he needed to be, but still, their friend.

Sakura took a small comfort in the fact that, even if she had thought of this eventuality, she wouldn't have had a choice but to accept Orochimaru's proposal anyway. He would have killed her if she hadn't accepted to fulfill the terms of the deal.

Sakura turned over again and stared at the ceiling. Sasuke had wanted to kill her. In an unprovoked, and, as far as she was concerned, completely unjustified attack, save for whatever reasoning his twisted mind had fabricated. He had muttered something about a test, bonds… and then lunged for her.

He had lost his mind. She made a note to inform Kabuto that she agreed one hundred percent with his previous assessment of Sasuke: power-hungry, violent and… what was the last one? Unbalanced. Oh yes. That was putting it mildly.

Sitting up in her small cot, Sakura held her head in her hands as she realized that she was actually surrounded by psychopaths.

And now the truth was out. Kabuto had looked so angry back in the courtyard – Sakura now knew that the entire scheme had been a façade. She had, in effect, healed Kimimaro for free. What would happen now? The best case scenario at this stage would be for them to allow her to leave unscathed, carrying only the bitter taste of trickery with her. But now she had so much information – about Orochimaru's base, the seals, Kabuto, Kimimaro, Sasuke's whereabouts and condition… would they kill her rather than allow her to leave?

She gazed at the dark opening that led to the ward. Kimimaro had still not returned. It worried her and, for some reason, left her feeling very alone – sitting here in the dark with the occasionally blinking monitors. Monitors that he didn't need any more. Just like he wouldn't need her any more, soon enough.

Wow, so the day's events had affected her to the point that she was actually sinking into melodrama right now. So he wasn't in his room. No big deal. No big deal at all… Sakura repeated this to herself in an attempt to deny the fact that she was missing his presence. Truth be told, Kimimaro was the closest thing to an ally that she had here, and after today, she kind of wanted an ally – except she was still mad at him for hiding the seal divestment from her, right, yes, she was angry with him; he was a Sound nin after all…

It was no use. She wasn't sleeping tonight. Sakura got up, stretched, straightened out some piles of books, folded some clothes. She brushed her teeth for the second time that night, then redid her braid.

Eventually her aimless steps lead her to Kimimaro's empty ward, where she leaned against the doorframe like he had so many times before. She smiled ruefully to herself – so maybe he had grown on her, in his slightly crazy, touchy-feely way.

She moved into the familiar space, noting in passing that Kimimaro hadn't taken his supplements that morning. The pills lay on the shelf where she had placed in a neat semicircle around a glass of water. She would have to scold him with loud complaints about his calcium and iron levels. And then he would look vaguely contrite and apologize by brushing his hand against her cheek. And she would be easily placated, and then she would find some excuse to move away before he noticed that she was blushing…

Sakura halted at his hastily-made bed and sat on the rumpled sheets. At this point, her next steps were very unclear to her. Perhaps it would be a good idea to pack her scarce belongings and take the aggressive route: bitch at Kabuto for having once again betrayed her trust, shove his notes back into his hands (complete with corrections in red) and demand to be released.

She leaned back against a pillow that smelled like antiseptic. Or maybe she should be more submissive, humbly requesting freedom while emphasizing that she would gladly concede to whatever Orochimaru felt would be necessary for her to not pose a risk during her release…

Or perhaps Orochimaru would simply wander over and kill her while lamenting the blow that the loss of her skill was to the medical world. She could imagine him doing that altogether too easily.

Sleep overcame her. She wriggled into a more comfortable position, determined to plan reactions to these potential scenarios when she awoke.

VVV

Kimimaro entered his darkened quarters in absolute silence, not wishing to disturb the rest of his healer-girl, asleep somewhere in the mess of blankets on her cot. Her rest would no doubt already be troubled by the day's events.

Once he was in his room, he shut the door softly and reached down to clip off his footwear. She was going to be furious when she woke up – she was already angry at him for the seal-removal secrecy (a secret that was not his to divulge, and besides, it was Orochimaru's wish that he not talk about it, so of course, he did not talk about it). And now this, today's encounter with the Uchiha, where she learned that Kimimaro was not the only one who longed to become a vessel…

Oh yes, she was going to be angry. The springtime eyes would darken like a forest in a storm and he would hurt because this wasn't what he wanted to do to her… he found himself staring at the door between their rooms, half-tempted to awaken her and try to explain that he would never have let Kabuto and Orochimaru carry out this scheme, had he been conscious when it was implemented in the first place. Because such deception went against his personal sense of honour; he would have preferred upfront threats to her life to this underhanded tactic.

But when this entire machination had been put underway, he had been near-comatose and not in any condition to understand – much less object to – such a plan. He had been presented with a done deed upon wakening, and then he had been ordered to play along as best he could.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he stared at the door. She would probably not take kindly to being awakened in the middle of the night by an agitated man explaining that everything really wasn't his fault. No. It could wait until morning at least.

He made his way towards his small bathroom and bumped into a shelf in the dark. The rattle of pills there reminded him that he had neglected to take his supplements again. He swiped them into his palm and downed them with the lukewarm water. She wouldn't notice, he was sure. As long as they were gone before she replaced them with new ones in the morning, he was safe from her scolding and her reproachful looks and her captivating pouts…

In the bathroom he switched on the light and brushed his teeth with one hand while undoing the fastenings in his hair with the other. As for the Uchiha… Kimimaro spat and rinsed, his motions becoming more vehement.

It had been a close thing. He had felt the flare of Sasuke's hostile chakra and he had started running – and by the time he had turned the corner, the Uchiha was advancing on Sakura with his chidori powered up. And she had managed to create a shimmering mesh in front of her – some sort of shield? He would have to ask about that – and was backing up, bracing for the hit.

He had decided on a clean double-kick at the Uchiha's back instead of a more satisfying thrust through the spine with his sword. Only the thought of Orochimaru's displeasure stayed his hand. He hadn't felt such a rush of enmity in years – seeing her, with her small figure tightened for impact, with confused anger in her eyes and only an odd glimmer between her hands for protection…

He remembered the convulsive tightening in his chest, and now he could give it a name: fear. Not for himself, but for her. That was a new and interesting thing; fear had been erased from his emotional repertoire a long time ago, or so he thought, along with many other things – but, there it was. It frightened him, the possibility that she could have been injured, or worse…

It was a shame, really, that Kabuto had arrived in time to stave off a fight. It would have been his pleasure to remind the Uchiha why Orochimaru had wanted the Kaguya bloodline first and foremost, and his red devil-eyes only second…

Kabuto had lectured them long in the courtyard after Sakura had left. Sasuke had gotten the brunt of it for having been far too liberal with his information and for attacking a guest of Orochimaru's on sight. Kabuto made it exceedingly clear that Sakura was off-limits, for the moment at least: as long as she held some use for Orochimaru, Sasuke needed to keep his little vendetta in check. Kimimaro was grateful to Kabuto for this; he did not trust the Uchiha, but even he wasn't stupid enough to directly contradict Orochimaru's wishes.

For his part, Kimimaro had received a tirade on his jealousy that Sasuke might be the next vessel. He had not bothered to correct Kabuto on this point. Kabuto could believe what he wanted. Truth be told, since having his cursed seal removed, Kimimaro found that his obsession with offering his body to Orochimaru had lessened somewhat. Perhaps because his body was no longer failing him, perhaps because the loss of the seal set him at a remove from Orochimaru's will, perhaps because he now remembered what it was like to breathe without a hitch, to move without pain – and there were joys that came with this healed body, too, of fighting and being good at it, of human contact (her, of course).

Yes, he had made peace with the idea of simply living and serving Orochimaru. And as of late, on simply living…

Kimimaro pressed his forehead to the cool mirror. Kabuto had sent him off to train on his own with a gesture towards the forest and had brought Sasuke indoors. To Orochimaru? He did not know. Since his seal was divested from him, he could no longer sense Orochimaru's presence in the compound; it was a lack in his life, but the void was not as painful as he might have imagined it to be…

It had disturbed him to leave Sakura there, in the same building as the Uchiha. He knew that Kabuto was highly competent and wouldn't allow Sasuke to go on a rampage, but nevertheless. It surprised him, how much he worried. How much she mattered to him.

But – it was all over now. She was safely in bed in the next room. Tomorrow she would wake up and question him, angry and hurt. Perhaps he would quiet her with touches; she was more easily distracted by those as of late. And then he would explain with his shy halting words and hope that she would understand his limited role in this affair. (She would understand; she had a temper but she was so kind beneath that, and caring, and…)

She would want to leave, he was certain of it. As far as he knew, Orochimaru had no further plans for her. And as he was nearly fully healed himself, the services she provided were of the most basic sort. His bloodline-enhanced recovery rate could probably take care of the training wounds within a few hours, now; she merely sped up the process.

He could only hope that they would let her leave in peace. It was the best he could wish for – that Kabuto and Orochimaru would allow her to depart with all limbs attached…

And if they decided to dispose of her? He did not know what he would do. This was a disturbing realisation. There was a time – a distant, far simpler time, it seemed – when any decision of Orochimaru's would have been automatically right. Unquestionable.

But now things had become complicated, new layers had formed where there was once stark certainty. Kimimaro would have qualified these developments as troublesome, save for the fact that they added entirely new dimensions to his existence. A pleasant sort of depth, a fullness. New flavors, new feelings…

And no matter which way he looked at it, it all came back to her.

He felt for his bed in the dark room and hoisted himself on with a light push.

The feel of a warm body squirming underneath him caused him to pull back up in surprise.

VVV

Sakura was pulled from slumber by the feel of a heavy weight settling on her. Her eyes flew open and her chakra flooded her system: her first thought was that Orochimaru was here to end it all and she was prepared to sell her life dearly.

When she focused enough on her surroundings, however, all she saw was Kimimaro sitting on her knees, a look of bewilderment barely visible on his face in the dark.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Sakura finally recovered enough from her surprise to ask what on earth he thought he was doing.

Kimimaro blinked at her. "This is my bed."

Sakura blinked back, then cast a glance around the room in what she hoped was a discreet manner. The surgical table sat in the corner, the unused IV stand leaned against the door, the shelf with Kimimaro's things in it stood in the shadows…

Sakura opened and closed her mouth. She stuttered out an apology. Kimimaro shifted his weight and leaned in a little closer to her.

"But – what are you doing here?" he asked, studying her face in the dark.

Sakura squirmed in an attempt to pull out her legs from her him, but Kimimaro did not move to facilitate the process.

"I was – I was just wandering around, and then I sat down, and I must've fallen asleep," said Sakura. "Wow – that sounds like the stupidest story ever, but I promise it's true…"

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

Kimimaro slid off of her legs to lie down beside her and Sakura found that her heart was racing. The way he looked at her, so intensely… did he have to be so innocent, and so sincere, and so _pretty_?

His pale hair was out of its usual red ties and fell on either side of his face. If she had been a weaker woman, Sakura would have passed her hand through it to feel the softness there. Or maybe she was a weaker woman, because right now, she really wanted to – and he would stare at her dreamily as she did so, like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and it would make her knees weak because that's kind of what he did to her…

She needed to get out of here.

"I'll just be going, then," said Sakura. She extricated herself from the sheets with some difficulty, finally managing to pull herself out and landing on the floor in a heap. She regained her feet and rearranged her sleeping shorts and tank top with as much dignity as she could muster.

"So – um, goodnight," she said, too flustered to even look Kimimaro in the eyes. "Sorry about that – it won't happen again."

As she turned to leave, she felt warm fingers on her wrist. She turned to look at him and felt her breath catch at the earnestness in his eyes.

"Stay."

She studied the floor to keep her fluttering emotions in check. "I don't think so, Kimimaro–"

"Just for a while. Lie with me."

His hand moved to hold her elbow. "Please."

Sakura felt as though the bones in her body had turned to mush. What harm could it do, really? Good god, how was he so beautiful – and the look he gave her when she settled next to him, and the light in his eyes, and the feel of his mouth smiling against her neck when he moved closer, so that their bodies touched…

VVV

He couldn't believe it was happening; he couldn't believe it when she turned around and lifted her warm self onto his bed – and now she was lying there next to him. He felt positively light-headed from the extravagance of soft sensations that her nearness stirred, from the joy of it. He did not remember ever having felt this – this delight, this bliss. She charmed him in every way, this healer-girl, this Sakura, from her loose pink braid to her smooth legs that touched his somewhere under the sheets.

She met his eyes and lifted her mouth in a hesitant smile. And all he wanted to do was touch and hold and breathe her. The blood in his veins seemed to have been replaced by something else, something infinitely more precious that coursed through him and made him want to laugh and weep at the same time, even though, as a rule he never did either of those things…

"You matter to me," he said, putting together these words because they were the best way that he had to describe this, the way he thrilled when she touched him, the way her smiles were sunshine unexpected, the way he wanted her all for himself, because she was so… so…

She blushed, then, and looked shy, so perhaps that had been a mistake – he hated words, you couldn't erase them with other, softer touches, or maybe you could and he just didn't know how – but then, she also looked like she was trying not to smile.

"You're sweet."

He had been called many things in his life and sweet wasn't in the lexicon. It was a peculiar jump in his brain to try to understand the word in relation to himself; he was a killer, a monster, a freak. But. _She_ said sweet, and if she thought so – well, he trusted her judgement, she was clever (immensely) and knew so very much about everything.

She drifted off to sleep eventually after halting his hand's exploratory caresses on her hip. He did not mind this; he knew that there were some lines that shouldn't be crossed (though their exact location was a mystery), something about propriety, decorum – vague concepts to him and by him generally understood to be useless, but then, he didn't make the rules…

So he did not mind. Just to be able to look, to feel someone there with him… someone who was, suddenly – or had it taken longer? Had it not been months? – a very important person…

He studied her face long after she fell asleep, the skin porcelain in the dark, the loosening braid of petal-pink dancing across the pillow, and eyelashes and lips and everything he could never tire of looking at because it was so beautiful and it made his chest hurt, but in a way that felt so good…

He cherished every brush of skin on skin and every moment of shared warmth and dozed off, eventually, with his face in the crook of her neck, nose and mouth brushing it ever so slightly.

VVV

(art by maligned-affairs @ tumblr)


	8. Chapter 8

Sakura drifted awake with a sigh. There was something so comforting in the warmth of another body at her side, in being held like this, in the softness of Kimimaro's breath fanning out against her cheek…

Wait. _What?_

The sleep-fog was lifting. Sakura began to recollect fuzzy memories of last night; Kimimaro's gentle request and her weakness in actually considering it, and oh god she didn't do it, did she? She wouldn't have. She would never do such a thing.

She felt the weight of Kimimaro's arm across her shoulders.

Yep. She did it. And she was still there. And he was still there.

Sakura opened her eyes and prepared to do some damage control. She found his clear green gaze watching her with such intensity that it tugged at her heartstrings in spite of her rising alarm.

A glance at her watch told her that it was 7:00 a.m. – just about time for Kabuto to come in with breakfast. He couldn't find her like this, nestled in bed with Kimimaro – what the hell kind of conclusions would he come to?

Wide-eyed, Sakura pulled herself to a seated position and straightened out her clothes and her disheveled hair while she thought of something suitable to say to the man who was watching her. Something like 'this will never happen again, please stop looking at me' or 'it was a one-time thing, don't read too much into it,' or 'you are beautiful and I love it when we touch.'

Um… no. Not that last one. Sakura settled for flipping the covers and sliding off the bed.

"I have to go," she said.

Kabuto's imminent arrival brought with it a flood of anxiety as to the significance of the past day's events.

She turned to Kimimaro. "You knew all along. That Sasuke also wants to be a vessel."

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

Sakura waited expectantly for a burst of anger. Instead, she found only a sense of nervousness and fear.

"I just want to get out of here. Alive."

"I do not know what they are planning."

"Kabuto told you nothing yesterday?"

"No."

"If he had, would you even tell me…?"

"I am not sure." Kimimaro was silent for a moment. "I do not want you to leave."

Sakura felt the tiniest tug in her chest at his guilelessness. She shook her head. "And what… stay here in Sound for the rest of my life? Get labeled as a missing-nin? You hardly need me anymore."

"Yes I do."

"Don't be silly. In a few weeks you will be as healthy as you've ever been – healthier, even."

Kimimaro shifted as though to say something but Sakura interrupted with an exaggerated look at her watch. "I'd better go."

Sakura made for her cot and mussed it up appropriately, then sat on it cross-legged with a somber expression.

Kabuto's soft footsteps sounded in the hallway at 7:05. Silence fell for a few moments as he paused on the other side of the door and Sakura felt herself tense up. He came in after his usual sharp knock, bearing a tray that he placed on the desk. Then he turned to face Sakura and crossed his arms.

"So," said Kabuto, looking at her over his glasses. "I understand that yesterday was a bit of a revelation to you. I should… discipline you for your behavior yesterday. You knew you weren't supposed to leave the inner courtyard. Especially not when I was otherwise occupied."

Sakura lifted an eyebrow and said dryly, "I was hardly trying to escape."

"Yeah, well – I now have consequences to deal with. _You_ now have consequences to deal with. There are some things that you were better off not knowing."

"Right," said Sakura, a small flame of anger rekindling itself in her breast. "Such as the fact that Sasuke is now a homicidal psychopath."

"Sasuke was… was _thrown_ at seeing you here," said Kabuto. "It's not unlike Orochimaru to test the loyalty of his followers, and it wouldn't be the first time that Sasuke has had an unexpected – ah – surprise test."

"I see," said Sakura. "And the fact that Sasuke actually _wants_ to be Orochimaru's vessel. That detail somehow didn't make it into any of our discussions. Ever."

"That doesn't mean that Orochimaru will use him," said Kabuto.

"You still lied to me."

"Did we? Did you ever ask?"

"… No," said Sakura with a dark look. "Because the possibility never even occurred to me. Because I didn't know how all-consuming his desire for vengeance has become over the years. But _you_ knew."

"I didn't lie to you."

"Omitting the truth like that is still lying in my book."

"Sure," said Kabuto with a shrug that made it clear how little her opinion of him mattered.

"What did you do to Sasuke, exactly? He was never like this. I can't even begin to understand how a childhood obsession became a fully-fledged mania like this. He was never _crazy_."

Kabuto didn't answer.

"It's the seal, isn't it? It's basically injected Orochimaru's will into him. And he can't differentiate between it and his own. And it's eroded away all the more fragile parts of him – his empathy, his memories, his humanity…"

"You're annoyingly perceptive, sometimes," said Kabuto.

Sakura glared at him. "So – so what does this mean, now? Orochimaru is basically keeping his options open with these two vessels? This is _such_ bullshit…"

"Something like that," said Kabuto. "He's a long-term planner, I've told you that before. And no matter how carefully he planned, something still went wrong this time. So he's going to be doubly paranoid for next time."

Kabuto pulled off one of his gloves and rubbed absently at his palm. "And willingness is so important in this process, you know. And Sasuke is very, very willing. He knows that Orochimaru in his body would make short work of Itachi. And that's Sasuke's only life goal, now."

"Kimimaro is also very willing," said Sakura.

"He is," said Kabuto with a nod. "You said it perfectly. Orochimaru is keeping his options open."

"But what about me? What about our deal? You said it was still on. Can I remind you that I agreed to this to keep Sasuke from being used as a vessel…?"

"No," corrected Kabuto. "You did it to stop Orochimaru from _taking_ him as his vessel. If Sasuke wants to give up his body – who exactly are you to stop him?"

This was a fair question – but that didn't make it any easier for Sakura to hear. Kabuto was right, of course. She was nothing to Sasuke but a friend – no, not even a friend at this juncture, since he wanted to kill her – she was nothing to him but a former teammate, and what the hell kind of say did she have in what he decided to do with his life?

Sakura dropped her face into her hands and muttered a few choice swear words. Kabuto caught a few and smirked.

She lifted her head suddenly. "What if Sasuke had arrived two weeks ago? When Orochimaru had his crisis?"

"What of it?"

"He would've been used as the vessel, right then and there," said Sakura.

"Probably," said Kabuto.

"Despite the deal."

"Uh, yeah," said Kabuto, without a trace of remorse. "Obviously. Kimimaro wouldn't have survived the procedure, and Sasuke would've been right there. Orochimaru would have taken him instead of Genyumaru – no question about it."

"You're all liars and traitors and I was an idiot for ever believing you."

Kabuto was unfazed by the insults – perhaps because he knew them to be true.

"Who is Genyumaru?" asked Sakura.

"What does it matter? He's gone now," said Kabuto.

Sakura pressed her fingertips to her forehead. "You're right. It doesn't. I'm understanding that now. And this whole thing – all of these months, all of this work – was all for _nothing_."

"Not for nothing," said Kabuto after a pause. "You saved a life. And you bought Sasuke time."

"I bought Sasuke three years – _maybe_ ," said Sakura. "If Orochimaru doesn't use him. Which would mean he was using Kimimaro. Both of those options are shit."

Kabuto looked at her thoughtfully. "You were so eager to trade off Kimimaro for Sasuke when you arrived."

Sakura didn't answer him; there were thoughts and feelings there that she hadn't quite untangled herself, and hell if she was getting into them with this guy.

"I know you're angry," said Kabuto. "And I get why. But I nevertheless need you to assure me of your continued cooperation here in Otogakure. You aren't out of the woods."

Sakura glared at him in self-righteous defiance. Part of her wanted to smash down all of the stupid wooden walls that she could reach and set Otogakure on fire.

Kabuto must've seen something of that impulse in her gaze. "I hate to threaten you, but I want to make it clear where you stand right now."

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him.

"I could bring you to accommodations far less comfortable than these," said Kabuto with a gesture to Sakura's surroundings – her little desk, the chair, the partially-open door to her bathroom.

"And the meals could be… nonexistent," said Kabuto.

Sakura's gaze fell to the hot bowl of oatmeal on the desk.

"And… there is worse I could do with you than let you to read and write notes in your spare time," said Kabuto, cocking his head at her and considering her from behind his glasses.

Sakura recoiled internally at the thought: who knew what warped experiments this man was capable of, with a subject like herself who could heal constantly while her chakra reserves permitted?

"Your stay in Sound until this point hasn't been uncomfortable," said Kabuto. "Right?"

Sakura gave him a tiny nod.

"I could change that, if you give me a reason to," said Kabuto. "So… despite whatever self-righteous wrath you're indulging in, I expect further cooperation from you until we find your presence here unnecessary."

Sakura unclenched her jaw long enough to repeat, "we?"

"Yes."

"Yourself and Orochimaru?"

"That's correct."

"I want to talk to him," said Sakura.

"I really don't think that would be wise," said Kabuto. He actually looked serious, for a brief moment, and Sakura remembered his description of Orochimaru's disappointment, and her specific role in causing that disappointment, because she hadn't been quick enough…

Perhaps she wouldn't push that request further just now.

"I just want to go home," said Sakura.

"That's not happening quite yet. We still need you here," said Kabuto.

"Why do you need me? And how much longer?"

"A week or two. Now that Sasuke has arrived, we can have Kimimaro train with him instead of with me," said Kabuto as he pushed up his glasses in that characteristic manner of his. "You saw their little interaction today. It's entirely possible that Kimimaro could get seriously injured."

"Kabuto – you can't be serious right now. A week or two? Need I remind you that I've been here for _five months_? I was only brought here to heal Kimimaro's lungs, and then it became pushing him to peak performance, and now I'm supposed to be his personal nurse for the length of his training?"

"You seem to be under the impression that you have a choice."

Sakura folded her arms. "Wow. What else should I do? Should I heal Sasuke too when he gets injured? What about you after your training, should you be one of my patients too? What about the miserable subjects that you experiment on? Do they need healing?"

"You know very well that I can heal myself without a problem. As for the rest… don't give me ideas."

"I'm _so very sick_ of you worming other elements into this agreement," said Sakura.

"I don't know why you're still calling it an agreement," said Kabuto.

"Look. All I want to do is get out of here as soon as possible. In one piece."

"And you will, eventually."

"Give me a date."

"Let's say ten days."

"I'll hold you to that."

"It's a tentative schedule."

Sakura gritted her teeth. "Alright. I can work with that. But, Kabuto… I won't do anything else for Otogakure. This is it. Anything more and I'll be hard-pressed to explain to Konoha's council why they shouldn't suspect me of treason."

Kabuto lifted the corner of his mouth in amusement at her serious tone. "It's good to see such loyalty."

Sakura stared him down until he chuckled.

Kabuto left her to her breakfast and wandered into Kimimaro's room, only to find that Kimimaro was in the shower.

"I don't suppose you would have any idea why this would have been on his pillow?"

Kabuto approached and Sakura was able to make out a single hair, pink, held between his index finger and his thumb.

She lifted her eyebrows and shrugged. "I have no idea. It must've fallen at some point."

When Kabuto kept holding the hair up between them, watching her, Sakura narrowed her eyes. "What are you implying, exactly?"

"Nothing," said Kabuto. "No need to get defensive. It was just a question."

He came closer to her and she leaned backwards. He caught her by the chin. "Maybe I would like to be a patient of yours, after all."

Sakura swatted his hand off with just enough chakra for the smack to sting. "Please. Let's keep things professional."

Kabuto pulled back with a smirk. "You always keep things professional, do you?"

"Always," said Sakura, her green gaze daring him to suggest otherwise.

He didn't dare. "Kimimaro and Sasuke will spar today."

"Can I watch?" asked Sakura.

"No. Your presence brought out the worst of them yesterday."

"But what if–"

"I said no, Sakura," said Kabuto. "Unless you feel like convincing me?"

Sakura relented. "No thank you."

VVV

Kimimaro returned to their shared rooms that evening looking disheveled but pleased with himself. Sakura watched him covertly from where she was sulking on her cot. She supposed the training must've gone well – there was a definite air of self-satisfaction about him before he disappeared into the shower.

Afterwards, he sat on his bed in his usual position: legs hanging off the side, hands occupied with a weapon of some sort (twin white knives tonight). He watched Sakura approach and noticed the absence of her usual smile. The light of happy expectation that was in his eyes faded to something more wary.

"You are still angry."

"Yes," said Sakura.

His gaze found the floor and he somehow managed to look utterly miserable and utterly pretty at the same time.

"Not at you," said Sakura quietly as she passed her healing hands over him. "…Not anymore. I'm angry at the situation – and at Orochimaru and Kabuto for taking advantage of me and lying to me. And at Sasuke for being an unspeakably ungrateful bastard – and for trying to kill me."

She took a breath. "I'm sorry I snapped at you the other night. You're in a difficult position and I keep making it even more difficult for you."

"Yes," said Kimimaro. "You do."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. She meant in terms of her demanding information that he was expressly forbidden to give out and other such subversive behaviours; she had a feeling that he was talking about something else.

"It is confusing," said Kimimaro.

"What is?"

"This," said Kimimaro, gesturing to where she stood so close to him. "You. Everything."

Sakura looked away, unsure how to respond to this. An awkward silence fell between them. As always, healing his injuries provided a distraction from this strange tension full of things that they only dared hint at and never actually voice.

She treated several deep cuts and bruises and chided Kimimaro for overextending his shoulder ligaments again. Then she turned her attention to a single lengthy burn mark extending from his shoulder to his navel. The mark was virtually black and the texture of the seared skin was strange, like tiny rough blisters.

She touched the edges curiously, where the mark disappeared into his skin in fine black veins. "Chidori?"

"Yes."

Sakura remembered his earlier taunt to Sasuke and cocked her head in amusement. "I thought you said the chidori would be useless against you?"

"It is," said Kimimaro with an indifferent shrug. "This is a surface wound; it could not go deeper. I am already healing it."

"Ah."

"But," added Kimimaro quickly, as though worried that she would call the healing session over, "I am glad to have your help with it."

"Of course," said Sakura.

"I like it when you heal me."

Sakura had long known that that was the case, so the statement did not come as a surprise. Because her healing brought her touches, and her proximity, and her attention, all of which were things that this beautiful broken man cherished.

"Just don't go getting yourself injured just to get healed, okay?" said Sakura with a grin.

"I would not do that," said Kimimaro. He reached a hand around the back of her neck and brought her in close, gently, and leaned his forehead into hers.

"But," he said in a low voice, "when it happens, it gives you a reason to be near. So."

"Oh," said Sakura, looking into eyes of jade that were telling her a powerful story of unspoken attraction and caring and esteem that made her heart dance because it (the idiot thing) mirrored those sentiments in varying degrees.

He was stupidly handsome. It seemed fundamentally unjust to Sakura, how stupidly handsome he was. Those intense eyes. Those fine eyebrows. Those cheekbones to die for. That serious mouth that she could _so_ coax into a smile if she just gave in and kissed him…

His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes again. And all of Sakura's idiot hormones were screaming at her to lean in and just brush her mouth against his, because he totally had a crush on her, and she kind of had a crush on him, and she could just pretend it was an accident or something, yes?

His palm was soft warmth on her cheek, then his fingers were brushing along her jaw, then his thumb was touching her lip so gently that she could scarcely feel it. His gaze was red-edged longing tinged with uncertainty.

And then Kabuto's voice echoed in her head, _you always keep things professional, do you?_ And her own voice with that self-righteous answer: _always_.

She couldn't do it. She wouldn't.

She took his hand and brought it down to his lap gently and she gave him what was supposed to be a bright businesslike grin but ended up a shy smile, and said, "I need to finish healing you."

Then, having apparently concluded from her actions that she didn't want his hands on her face, because she needed to heal him, Kimimaro set them on her hips instead. And oh god she really wanted to just jump into his lap right now, he was really sitting quite invitingly, come to think of it…

That thought was very wrong and she would have to scold herself for it later.

With some effort, Sakura ignored the warm hands on her waist and examined the nasty burn mark more closely. He watched her fingers move along the wound and the sight appeared bring him back to reality, which was good news for both of them.

"It is only on the surface," said Kimimaro. "But. The chidori should never have touched me. I must improve more."

Sakura was grateful for the change of subject. "How did it happen?"

"It was a taijutsu-only fight. That was Kabuto's rule. But the Uchiha became frustrated."

"How come?"

"His Sharingan cannot copy a bloodline trait," said Kimimaro. "My movements, my reflexes… all from the Shikotsumyaku. So he broke the rule. I did not expect him to. It surprised me. And he got me."

Sakura nodded. It was easy to see that unbalanced, impatient Sasuke resorting to something else when his taijutsu proved ineffective.

Kimimaro's lips quirked in what might have been a tiny smirk. "So I broke the rule too. Kabuto did not like it."

"Well – this looks painful. I hope you got him back."

"I did."

"Oh?"

"I did not aim for his vital spots," said Kimimaro his smooth voice. "It would anger Orochimaru. So. One through the shoulder, one through the arm. Clean."

Sakura bit her lip to keep from grinning. Then, with a pang, she realized that it was bizarre for her to be reacting in such a way to this kind of information. Perhaps if Sasuke hadn't gone and made a lunatic ass of himself, she would've felt more pity for him.

"I assume Kabuto healed him," said Sakura.

"Yes. And then Kabuto limited us to kicks only for the rest of the session," said Kimimaro. He sighed. "That was boring."

"I see."

Sakura passed her hands on either side of the scorch mark, studying it. The chidori didn't cause normal burns; it was almost like looking at a combination of acid burn and Lichtenberg scarring. She pushed her chakra into Kimimaro's chest, careful not to touch the injury.

"I'm just checking how deep this goes," said Sakura.

Kimimaro nodded absently. She supposed that he must have been in a fair amount of pain, but he remained as stoic as ever. His fingertips at her waist moved in idle little circles and he stared dreamily at her collarbone.

"Did Kabuto have a look at this?"

There was a beat of silence before Kimimaro noticed that he was being spoken to. "Oh. Yes. He was not sure how to heal it."

"Hm. I should be able to do something about it."

Sakura narrowed her eyes as she studied the wound. The epidermis had been seared through in a diagonal direction – Sasuke had probably attempted a swinging motion with the chidori, aimed at Kimimaro's head. A dodge and counter-attack from Kimimaro had resulted in this side-swipe, hitting the shoulder then trailing downwards as Sasuke's attention shifted from maintaining the chidori to the bone-swords that were probably impaling him at that point.

Sakura's chakra formed a thick line in the subcutaneous tissue just below Kimimaro's skin, mirroring the shape of the wound directly above it. She found newly-formed layers of skin waiting for her there, where his regenerative abilities had already triggered replication of the damaged tissue. She gave them a boost, pushing cells to split and reform and rise up.

Eventually, the blackened skin began to flake away as it was replaced by new skin. Sakura dusted the burnt flecks away to reveal the healed section. Within a few days, the paler line of skin there would vanish completely. Perfect. God, she was so good.

"There's that done," said Sakura.

"Thank you," said Kimimaro.

Sakura looked down when she felt him pull at her hips.

"Come closer."

"But I still have to finish your–"

He pulled her towards him anyway. She stood between his knees and looked down with what she hoped was an annoyed expression. "–shoulder."

"So finish it."

There was something of teasing in this, something of flirting, in a Kimimaro kind of way. Sakura gave him a look, then passed her chakra-infused palm across his shoulder, tightening and reconstructing his damaged ligaments.

His hands were warm on her waist and the fingers that she felt on her lower back exerted a gentle pressure, as though to prevent her from pulling away.

"There – done," said Sakura. She made to twist away, but those hands on her hips were stubborn.

"Good," said Kimimaro.

And now he was standing, too. He pulled Sakura closer and she looked away, suddenly too shy and confused and flustered to meet his eyes. She felt his hair brush her cheek as he leaned to look at her lowered face.

They stood like this for a long time – him looking at her while she stared at the floor.

Eventually her ear was tickled by a sigh. Sakura glanced up to find that Kimimaro's eyes were closed. One of his hands passed up and down her side with aching slowness, as though he was treasuring each inch that he was being allowed to touch right now. The other still rested on her hip.

His eyes opened just when Sakura's gaze had settled on his parted lips.

She watched his eyes flick down to her mouth.

"Can I kiss you?"

Four little words from him and Sakura's insides fairly erupted with what felt like a billion butterflies. She felt herself blush; she felt herself open her lips to respond and then not respond; she felt herself go stupidly light-headed and want to squeal and faint all at once.

And he waited for an answer.

"No," Sakura managed to whisper despite the butterflies that were fluttering thickly up her throat. "No. You can't."

"Why?"

"It's not… it's not appropriate," said Sakura, feeling the warmth of a furious blush on her cheeks.

"Oh," said Kimimaro. "Why?"

"Because you're my patient," said Sakura. "I can't do… stuff like that."

"Oh."

And he accused _her_ of making things difficult and confusing? Really?

Silence fell. Sakura gathered her courage and glanced up at him and found him watching her as neutrally as ever, having apparently accepted this information in the same way he accepted most things she told him.

"I understand," he said.

"Okay – okay, good," stammered Sakura, casting around for something else to talk about now; she needed to get away from him and give herself a stern lecture…

"I still want to," said Kimimaro. "But. I will not."

"Right," said Sakura, still feeling the heat on her cheeks. "So – so anyway, moving on – you must be exhausted from all of that fighting today. It's time for bed."

She turned to leave. His hand on her hip grasped her elbow lightly, then ran down to her wrist, then to the very tips of her fingers, as she pulled away.

She declined his invitation to share his bed again.

VVV

_And now he was standing, too. He pulled Sakura closer and she looked away, suddenly too shy and confused and flustered to meet his eyes. She felt his hair brush her cheek as he leaned to look at her lowered face._

_They stood like this for a long time – him looking at her while she stared at the floor._

(Art by akemiin at tumblr)


	9. Chapter 9

Sakura's remaining days in captivity melted by in much the same manner that the previous had: hours spent reading or tinkering in the lab were interspersed with Kimimaro's healing sessions and occasional talks with Kabuto.

On this particular evening, the long-awaited confirmation that Sakura _would_ be leaving the Sound, and alive at that, was given to her by Kabuto:

"Hi," said Kabuto as he came in bearing her dinner. "You owe me. Bigtime."

Sakura looked up from her book with a frown, because owing Kabuto anything was not high on her priority list. "What do you mean?"

"You're going to be freed," said Kabuto. "Orochimaru has agreed to have you released. He had some other tentative – ah – _plans_ – involving you, but I convinced him – at great personal risk, may I add – that someone else would be more suitable."

Sakura was actually rendered speechless by surprise: she had almost gotten used to the idea that she would leave Sound in a body-bag, or not at all.

"…Are you serious right now?" she asked when she managed to find her voice.

"Yeah," said Kabuto.

"If you're messing with me…"

"I'm not," said Kabuto. "I promise. And you're welcome."

Sakura stared at him, trying to detect a lie in his black eyes. She did not find one, but then again, Kabuto was a very good liar.

"If this is true," said Sakura, "then – then thank you. For changing his mind about keeping me here."

"Mm." Kabuto removed his glasses, wiping an invisible speck of dust off with care. "I wouldn't particularly want your death on my conscience."

"So – if this is actually happening – is there a date set for my release?"

"A day or two from now," said Kabuto. "I need to prepare some things first."

"Prepare what? I can leave, like, right now, if we need to," said Sakura.

"I'm sure you could," said Kabuto, replacing his glasses. "But it's me that needs to prepare. We'll have a bit of traveling to do. We aren't exactly in the Country of Fire, you know."

"Oh," said Sakura. "Sure. Of course. That's fine."

"You can start packing up," he said, gesturing to Sakura's belongings spread haphazardly across the room.

Sakura stared at him. "You know I – I don't want to offend you, but this all seems a little too good to be true. I've been burnt before by you guys…"

"I know you don't really have a reason to trust me," said Kabuto with an almost rueful smirk, "but trust me."

"I didn't think Orochimaru would let me leave quite so easily. I thought I knew too much."

"Apparently what you know – or, rather, think you know – isn't all that important."

"Oh."

"For example," said Kabuto running his hand down the wood panelling on the wall, "we'll be changing locations ourselves shortly. So whatever you've learned about the Sound's current setup will soon be obsolete."

"And certain other things – like Sasuke's state of mind – might actually be useful, if reported back to Konoha. Might get Naruto off of our case once and for all, actually – that would be nice. He's a tenacious little brat…"

Sakura couldn't help but smile at this description. "And he'll also get off your case for me, if I go back."

"Exactly. So yeah – you're going home."

It was still almost too good to be true, but Sakura wasn't going to argue with him about it until she had a solid reason to suspect a trick.

"So start packing up. I'm going to check on Kimimaro and Sasuke. They were having a pretty vicious spar when I left," said Kabuto, leaving her to it and disappearing into the dark corridor.

Sakura shook her head, knowing she would probably have a lot of work on Kimimaro when he came back. She dipped her spoon in the watery soup that Kabuto had brought in, mulling over the conversation as she stirred the bowl's hot contents. She had fought and whined and argued so much about her release, and now that it seemed imminent, she was having a hard time believing it.

After eating, Sakura busied herself with collecting her gear, ready for a departure sometime soon. Her few clothes were all rather the worse for the wear and her other belongings were in much the same state – her toothbrush was beaten up, her sandals threatened to fall apart, her hairbrush was a mysterious bristling pink thing…

The task really brought home the length of time that Sakura had actually spent in Sound – five or six months now? She felt so out of touch with reality, trapped as she was in this little room where days and nights rolled by without much change. Instead of seasons and lunar cycles, Sakura's measuring of the passage of time was more-or-less linked to Kimimaro's condition, rather than any other system. Two months since the lung cleansing operation, seven weeks since basic motor skills returned, one fortnight since last rash outbreak – these episodes were Sakura's calendar.

 _Speak of the devil_ … Sakura thought as she heard the door swing open. _Well okay no, not devil…_

When Kimimaro entered – sweaty and disheveled as he was – Sakura was reminded that his looks were far too angelic for that particular expression.

And he seemed rather bothered (well, as bothered as Kimimaro could look) when he come to stand beside Sakura, who was kneeling next to her half-packed bag.

"You are leaving," he said, squatting beside her.

"Yes, I am… and you need to get washed up," Sakura said as she spotted a rather nasty gash above Kimimaro's collarbone. She pulled his pale hair away from the wound, grimacing when it stuck in the half-congealed blood.

"When?"

"Now."

"You are leaving now?" asked Kimimaro, rocking back on his heels and appearing shocked at the prospect.

Sakura laughed. "No – I meant you need to shower now. I need to take a look at this cut, and whatever else you decided to damage while out there."

Sakura eyed several bloody abrasions on Kimimaro's knuckles and a cut on his sweat-glistening bicep. She brushed a finger along the laceration, unhappy at the swelling around it. Clearly Kimimaro and Sasuke had been training with weapons.

Kimimaro shrugged off her hand – an unprecedented thing that told her quite how agitated he was. "When are you leaving?"

Sakura stared at her hands, suddenly aware that she was hardly better than Kimimaro when it came to unsolicited touches.

"Kabuto said in a few days," said Sakura, feeling altogether too conscious of Kimimaro's knee touching her thigh and his naked torso right in front of her in all of its well-toned sweaty glory.

"Oh," said Kimimaro with a tone of relief. "Then I will go shower now."

"I'll be here," said Sakura, turning back to her bag.

VVV

She was leaving.

He had known it was coming. He had known all along, that she wouldn't be staying. So why, now that it was finally confirmed, did this fact hit him with such force?

Kimimaro stripped and stepped into the shower's hot jet, hissing when water ran over the open wounds on his body. What else had he expected? That she would stay here, in this tiny room, to heal him and be with him for the rest of her life? Stupid. She hardly deserved such an existence. And he himself would soon be sent out on various errands and missions, and then what would she do? Occupy herself with repairing IV stands and polishing scalpels? Of course not.

He lathered up the white square soap and washed off several hours' worth of sweat and blood. He had known it was coming. But where had these past few months gone? And why hadn't he done something… something… enjoyed them more, perhaps? He had settled into this comfortable routine, and, like all good things that happened to him, it was coming to an end altogether too soon. Training all day, then spending a few precious hours in her company in the evening… her concerned looks and frowns and smiles, all for him… it was idyllic. Of course. Too good to last.

Perhaps he was being selfish, Kimimaro thought as he switched off the shower and pulled open the curtain. Yes, he was probably being selfish. She didn't like it here, she was a captive. She was happy to be leaving – to be _released_. She would be getting her life back, returning to her village and her people.

Kimimaro toweled himself dry, trying to avoid rubbing his cuts. Several had re-opened from their partially-healed state and blood ran down his skin in little rivulets.

This healer-girl. She really made everything far too complicated. He shouldn't even be having these thoughts. This confused mass of swirling… _things_ … in his head and in his chest should not even be there by right. She was just another tool for Orochimaru to use – to fix another tool of his, Kimimaro himself. And that was all.

…At least, that's how it _ought_ to have been. Not this… this mess of sensations and longings and thrills that he did not quite understand but liked very much.

Kimimaro opened his bathroom door to find Sakura leaning on his bedpost, her pink hair twisted into a braid, green eyes flicking rapidly from wound to wound as he walked towards her.

He really did not want her to go.

It was so ludicrous that he could have laughed, had such impulsive outbursts not been quashed out of him a long time ago.

And yet… and yet, the certainty of it made it all the more bearable. At least he knew what he wanted, and he knew it with an expectant tension somewhere in his stomach.

VVV

Watching Kimimaro nearing her, Sakura marveled for the hundredth time at the progress that this man had made. He was a walking medical miracle, from a ghastly corpse-like being to this, a shining example of health and fitness. And absurd good looks. Tsunade would be proud.

Kimimaro was watching her with a fierce intensity as he approached, enough to make Sakura apprehensive. He came to a halt in front of her and passed a hand along her cheek, all while looking at her like something had just been confirmed. Then he dropped onto the bed and assumed his usual inscrutable expression.

Sakura tilted her head in curiosity. If she could only read his mind…

She passed her hands over Kimimaro's skin, healing minor scrapes with her usual efficiency. Her thoughts drifted back to her previous conversation with Kabuto and she realized that this would probably be one of the last times she was doing this. The realization hit her with an unexpected pang.

She blinked at a sudden sense of impending loss. This whole routine had become so familiar, so… normal. Smooth white skin, still-damp hair, the smell of antiseptic, half-closed green eyes… this was Sakura's one constant here at Sound. Her favorite part of the day, really. And it was coming to an end.

Obviously, this was a good thing. She was going home. She was going to see Naruto, Kakashi, Ino, Tsunade. She was going to go back to work at the hospital. She was going to apply for that Konoha research grant. She had a paper to give at a conference in February. She had her whole life to get back to.

So what was with this swoop of gloom that was dampening her spirits? Was this Stockholm Syndrome? Maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome. Yes, it was Stockholm Syndrome.

Kimimaro turned to look curiously at Sakura, whose focus on her confused thoughts had made her uncharacteristically quiet.

"Looks like you two had weapons today," said Sakura to break the silence as she wiped caked blood from above Kimimaro's collarbone. She peered at the gash, glad that it had not hit any higher than that.

"Yes."

"Well I hope you'll return to taijutsu-only training after…" Sakura found a catch in her throat, unexpected and entirely ridiculous, "…after I leave. Otherwise Kabuto will have a lot of healing on his hands."

"I do not know," said Kimimaro. Sakura watched his Adam's apple move and felt the resonance of his voice in her fingertips.

A few minutes of companionable silence followed, during which Sakura finished her work on Kimimaro's larger wounds. She made sure to heal him as well she could, as this might well be her final opportunity to do so. And hell if she would be the one to leave a permanent blemish to remain on that skin…

Sakura turned her attention to Kimimaro's bloody knuckles.

"My goodness. What did you do here, drag these across broken glass?"

"Gravel," said Kimimaro. "I landed hard."

Sakura shook her head as she cleaned out the many tiny cuts and folded what shreds of skin she could back into place. In some areas, the damage was such that she could see the whitish glint of Kimimaro's interphalangeal joints amongst the red.

It was a delicate and time-consuming task and Sakura eventually jostled Kimimaro over so she could sit on the bed as well. They sat cross-legged, facing each other, as they had many months ago when he had first shown her the Shikotsumyaku. Back then, Sakura reflected, Kimimaro's condition had still been monitored via chakra-signature, with screens blinking serenely at her in her room. It seemed like a very long time ago.

At length, the combination of Sakura's chakra and Kimimaro's own innate regenerative abilities meant that his knuckles were almost back to normal. Sakura stroked his fingers, adding a final layer of healing that would make the remaining bruising fade away.

Lovely hands, Sakura thought, running a thumb along them – almost aristocratic. It made Sakura wonder what Kimimaro would have been like, had he not been subject to such a brutish upbringing and adolescence. Quiet and refined, probably. He had a taste for the sophisticated, as she could see in his fighting style and dress sense. Noble, she supposed, but not gaudy. Perhaps he would have had a vaguely superior air, like Neji…

Sakura kept passing her fingers up and down Kimimaro's hands, lost in these contemplations. She didn't realize that he was touching her back, now catching her hand lightly between his index and thumb, now brushing his palm over hers.

When Sakura's thoughts finally wandered back to reality, she found herself smiling. She pulled away her hands from where they tangled with his with a shake of her head. She was so easily distracted as of late. These lengthy departures into fanciful reveries did not become her rational, efficient personality. Perhaps she was falling ill. She did feel quite warm, come to think about it. And lightheaded altogether too frequently. And giddy and volatile and happy for no reason at all.

Yeah. She was _definitely_ coming down with something.

"Well, it looks like we're done here," Sakura stated unnecessarily after they had sat in silence for a while.

She found herself reluctant to get up and break the tranquility of the moment. Instead, her eyes roved across Kimimaro's body, looking for some inconsequential scrape she might have missed. She found none, only firm muscles under flawless skin – and did that boy have nice abs, or what…

Good god, she needed to get a grip.

Kimimaro took in a breath and released it slowly. "I do not want you to go."

"I know," said Sakura. "But I'm not staying here."

"I… enjoy it when you are with me."

Sakura gave Kimimaro a half-smile, looking down at where his thumb lingered on her wrist, tracing abstract lines there.

"What have you done to me?" asked Kimimaro.

"I haven't done anything," said Sakura, almost in a whisper, because those damn butterflies were starting up again…

"What is it, then?"

"If I – if I guess what you're talking about correctly, it's just attraction. A basic procreative urge."

"I like it."

When Sakura did not respond – she was too busy suppressing the curious impression that she was about to float – Kimimaro brought her hand up to his face, gently pulling her fingers out of their curled position. He pressed his lips to the center of her palm then looked up at her.

"It makes me feel alive."

Sakura attempted to disengage her hand from his grip. "Oh? Yes… yes well endorphins tend to be released, and adrenaline, it kind of – it just feels lovely."

When she raised her head, she found Kimimaro considering her with his bright eyes.

"Anyway," she added, "I'd better get to bed. Big day tomorrow."

"I am not going to let you go," said Kimimaro.

His sincerity was almost painful.

… As was his grasp on her shoulders.

"Kimimaro…"

"Why do you always run away?"

"Because," said Sakura. "I can't – I can't do otherwise. Goodnight, Kimimaro…"

And she slipped away again.

VVV


	10. Chapter 10

Sakura spent her last days in Sound in a state of anxious anticipation. Despite Kabuto's assurances to the contrary, the rational part of her brain cried that it was impossible for her to leave the Sound unscathed: Orochimaru operated on the principle that if person _x_ was no longer of use, they had no reason to be kept alive and should by consequence be disposed of. Sakura's impending release contrasted with that doctrine altogether too sharply for her to be comfortable. She was not naïve enough to think that her release was simply a sign of Orochimaru's gratitude for her help in healing one of his most deadly ninja; such sentiments were completely antithetical – if not alien – to a man like him. Weren't they?

Kabuto _had_ mentioned that he had spoken with Orochimaru and changed his mind about Sakura's future, but from what Sakura had seen of their interactions she wasn't sure that Kabuto's opinion would have done much to sway Orochimaru one way or the other.

She methodically narrowed down the only logical outcomes of this conundrum, neither of which was particularly comforting: either this release was a trick and she was going to be slain in new and exciting ways, or Orochimaru had planned some use for her and therefore has a reason for keeping her alive – in which case, why would he release her?

Sakura massaged her temples and took a few deep breaths. She could not make sense of this, and when Sakura could not make sense of something, she did not like it at all.

Moodily folding up a shirt, Sakura crammed it into the tiny space left in her bulging pack. Her departure was scheduled for the next day at dawn – if it was indeed going to be a departure and not some spectacular execution of Orochimaru's devising – and she had to get some rest.

Her gaze swept the room for the hundredth time for any forgotten items but there was, of course, nothing left – only a neat stack of binders on the desk and beside them a pile of notebooks. Miscellaneous bandages and debris were scattered amongst the unused cables snaking across the floor.

When she was quite assured that her things were packed and she was ready to catch a few hours of uneasy sleep, Sakura switched off the lights and lay meditatively on her cot, considering the other problem she had been deliberately avoiding contemplating over the past 48 hours: how she was going to bring herself to say goodbye, no doubt forever, to a patient who was by his alliances an enemy but by his temperament and gentleness of character rather closer to a… well, she would go with _friend_ , because she didn't want to think of alternative words that described her feelings for him more accurately than that.

Sakura bit her lip – Tsunade would be downright affronted at this turn of events. Sakura could see it now as a dreamlike vision in her half-asleep state; the Fifth's disappointed head shake, her narrowed hazel eyes, her lips pressed tightly together in high disapproval, the scuffle and slamming of a body on the other side of her door – _wait, what?_

Sakura silently rolled off of her cot and squatted near the door, pressing her ear to it and listening to a muffled disturbance in the passage beyond. After a short silence punctuated by angry breathing, a voice she knew well – though she had never heard the steely tones which rang through it now – hissed angrily:

"Uchiha."

"Let go or I _will_ make you sorry."

"What are you doing here?"

"Passing through."

"You _lie_."

Sakura frowned as she recognized the whispering voices of Kimimaro and Sasuke sounding none too happy with each other. Another scuffle followed during which Sasuke apparently managed to extricate himself from Kimimaro's hold. The _sotto voce_ conversation continued –

"I wasn't going to hurt your little medic."

"Stay away from her."

"She was my little medic first, you know."

A body hit the wall and the muted sound of an accurately-thrown palm strike punctuated the air. Sakura tensed, waiting expectantly for the sudden flare of chakra which would tell her that the participants of this muffled combat where beginning to fight in earnest, but felt none – they were clearly attempting to keep herself and Kabuto unaware of their encounter.

The subdued conversation began again after another stifled scuffle – "what are you doing here anyway? I didn't know she had an albino guardian."

"Keeping her safe–" muted blows were exchanged again "–from you."

"So you go from being Orochimaru's lapdog to Sakura's watchdog?" – Sasuke's sneer was audible in his tone – "that's progress, I guess…"

"Orochimaru has nothing to do with this anymore."

"Interesting–" another flurry of violent jostling "–does he know that?"

"He knows I will be loyal to him to the extent that he requires it–" a sound cuff resounded briefly "–and that's all that matters."

"So you sit here every night."

No answer.

"Does she know?"

An indistinct pounding kept Sasuke painfully occupied while Sakura digested this vaguely disturbing revelation.

After another few minutes of near-silent grappling during which Sakura's heart beat a tattoo in her chest and her legs began to get severe pins and needles, Sasuke's breathless whisper resumed: "she's leaving tomorrow – I think I'll go wish her a good trip back."

"Uchiha–" Sakura grimaced; the rasping sound of bone on bone told her that one of Kimimaro's swords had been produced as he spoke "– Orochimaru prohibited it, and _I_ forbid it."

"I said I'm going in and hell if some Kaguya bastard is going to stop me–" another tussle followed but this time neither participant bothered to curb the eruption of chakra that flashed under the bottom of the door and up its sides with blinding intensity. Sakura had fought along Sasuke's side long enough to recognize the flare of one of his fire release techniques, and that other one must've been one of the sword dances…

She backed away from the door as quickly as possible to avoid the inevitable explosion – but not fast enough.

The next moment, Sakura was propelled across the room by the force of two angrily brawling shinobi with blazing chakra surging about them, one searing the place with fire while the other turned the floor of Sakura's room into a bone graveyard bristling with wicked white spikes…

Sakura was slammed into the wall. She regained her feet immediately, reached upwards to where she knew the light switch dangled, and gave it a hard pull. The bulb flashed on and the sudden light effectively froze both ninja in their tracks.

Glares were exchanged all around before the ever-alert Kabuto came to a skidding halt amidst the smoking remains of what had been Sakura's door less than a minute previously.

"I felt that flare – what," Kabuto asked with a voice growing icier as he took in Kimimaro's frozen lunge forward with twin swords in his hands and Sasuke's activated Sharingan and still-fizzing fire release, "–is going on here?"

Not wanting to exacerbate an already difficult situation, Sakura shook her head to clear it, lifted her shoulders helplessly at Kabuto, snatched her pack and moved to Kimimaro's ward without being told to do so.

Kabuto shut the door behind her with a sharp click before turning to the two shinobi with an inexorable countenance. "You idiots. We've been through this before…"

The remainder of the lecture was lost to Sakura as Kimimaro and Sasuke were conducted out of her room and into the hallway. Kabuto's angry voice faded quickly but Sakura caught 'Orochimaru' and 'ridiculous behavior' expressed in very aggravated tones.

Shaken, Sakura dropped her pack on the floor and leaned on Kimimaro's bed, reflecting that her earlier lugubrious contemplations about surviving her departure tomorrow were out of place: surviving the night should have been her first priority, what with a skulking Uchiha heir slinking about and a secretive Kaguya scion acting as a self-appointed guard…

How long had Kimimaro been doing that, she wondered – sitting out there at night without telling her. She had always assumed that when he went to bed, he stayed there until morning. But apparently he had decided at some point that Sakura needed more protection than a flimsy door and took it upon himself to provide it.

After half an hour's worth of saturnine reflection during which Sakura healed a painful bump at the back of her head and soothed her bruised shoulders – _hi, I had a fight with a wall –_ the door-handle jiggled.

Sakura took an apprehensive step backwards – and then couldn't hold back a flood of relief and a smile when a wafer-thin white blade appeared between the door and the wall and lifted the latch.

Kimimaro pushed open the door and slipped into the room, sporting a fresh black eye, a split lip and a demeanor that was bizarrely reminiscent of a contrite schoolboy. His eyes didn't quite meet Sakura's and he seemed to want to be somewhere else.

"I apologize for… for that," he said.

"Don't worry about it. I didn't get hurt," said Sakura, taking in his battered features. She found herself absurdly preoccupied with that slowly-bleeding lip. "But what exactly was that about?"

"I didn't trust the Uchiha," Kimimaro stated in his toneless way as he made for the bathroom. He examined his blackening eye in the mirror rather morosely.

"At our last fight he spoke about you," he continued as he rinsed blood from his cut lip with the brusque movements of one speaking in anger, though his voice betrayed none of it. "I decided to act on it. And I am glad I did."

"Well – I think I could've handled him," Sakura said, feeling the need to point out that she was a kunoichi as well as a medic. "But thank you. You didn't have to. I didn't expect him to ignore a direct order from Orochimaru."

"The Uchiha wants to kill you," Kimimaro said matter-of-factly. He looked at Sakura in the mirror, stemming a fresh stream of blood at his lip with the heel of his hand. "I do not think you or Kabuto realize it."

Kimimaro leaned forward, swaying slightly as a thin stream of blood made its way down the white porcelain of the sink.

Sakura observed his ministrations from the bathroom entrance and raised an eyebrow at his evidently weakened state, one which did not correspond to a mere black eye and cut lip.

"Sasuke has always had a fondness for the theatrical," said Sakura as she approached him.

"I am telling you that he is serious."

Sakura shook her head dismissively. "I know him. You should hear his catch phrases, 'I must gain power' and 'I am an avenger'… He's always been like that. He doesn't mean it."

"He doesn't mean it?"

Kimimaro turned to face Sakura and passed a hand down the left side of his loose-fitting kimono. The gentle pressure caused a streak of red to fuse through the white material and become progressively – horrifyingly – larger. Sakura's hand flew to her mouth – the stain's location was inches below his heart and spreading altogether too quickly.

"I think he does," said Kimimaro.

Shock and anger reverberated through Sakura – at Sasuke for causing such an injury, and at Kimimaro for withholding it from her – until her training kicked in and Kimimaro found himself swung onto his bed and de-robed while antiseptic-soaked cotton pads swabbed at his ribs and Sakura's chakra probed his chest for the depth and width of the incision.

" _How_ did this happen? And _when_? And _why_ didn't you tell me?"

"Did you hear–" Kimimaro gasped painfully at a push against his ribs to survey his ossature "–someone hit the door?"

Sakura looked up from a mass of blood-soaked cotton after a quick chakra scan told her there was no poison in the wound. "You mean before you started talking?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, it woke me up – hold on, I need to concentrate." Sakura's eyes became glassy while she focused on the cartilage connecting Kimimaro's fifth rib to his sternum and the network of arteries therein. She needed to find where this flow of blood was coming from, and fast.

"Good," she said finally, "no puncture of the lung and no fracture. He certainly had the right angle, though." Sakura applied a thick band of gauze to the wound to stem blood flow and expertly applied pressure while eyeing her rapidly-diminishing pile of the absorbent material.

"You were saying about a body hitting the door, I presume that was you?"

"He masked his chakra and did not use any sort of jutsu," said Kimimaro, looking up at Sakura with a face paler than usual, if that was at all possible. "I did not feel him coming."

"…You mean he attacked you without warning?"

"I told you. He is serious."

"What did he attack you with?"

"Kunai," spat Kimimaro in disgust. "He did not want to signal his presence. And I was not alert. So."

"That's low. That's really low… and you shouldn't have kept talking after getting jabbed near the heart, you should have better judgment than that…" Sakura kept up an angry monologue in this vein while Kimimaro lapsed into silence.

Her quick hands alternatively sealing ruptured vessels, mopped up blood and squeezed the wound shut in conjunction with his kekkei genkai.

"And why is Sasuke risking Orochimaru's anger just to get back at me? And get back at me for what, precisely? I'm here because of _him_. I agreed to do this to help _him_. So _why_?"

Kimimaro mumbled an indistinct answer, found the strength to squeeze Sakura's forearm, and sank into unconsciousness. Unalarmed, Sakura adroitly pressed the remainder of the cleaned wound together and began the chakra-intensive process of replicating his lost blood.

Kabuto poked his bespectacled face around the door a few minutes into this process, probably with every intention of making vague threats to Sakura for being the cause of the another squabble. He was taken aback at finding Sakura blood-stained to the elbows and leaning over Kimimaro with the tell-tale green glow of healing chakra surrounding her hands.

"I didn't think they had fought that seriously…?" Kabuto let his statement trail into a question and pressed two fingers to Kimimaro's jugular and two to his wrist to check his pulse, then placed his own hands around the wound to give Sakura access to more chakra should she need it. "I should've been here sooner."

Sakura's mouth was set in a grim line. "His anterior circumflex artery was severed, I just sealed it…"

"And the subscapular?"

"Untouched. But he was pumping out blood from the beginning of the fight until he came back – hold your chakra there, I'm checking the subclavian – and I don't know how he didn't pass out before. Or why he didn't tell me."

"Cause of the wound? Sasuke didn't have the chance to use a jutsu, he would have alerted everybody," said Kabuto.

"Kunai."

"A kunai?" repeated Kabuto, shaking his head in disbelief. "That would be why he didn't tell you. He has his pride. When his kekkei genkai is back at its peak functionality, this kind of injury won't even make him blink – much less pass out from blood loss…"

"He thinks Sasuke still wants to kill me. I didn't believe him at first, but now…"

"Sasuke shouldn't have been in the base tonight," said Kabuto. "He was supposed to be collecting some… some things for me."

Sakura glanced up from Kimimaro's gory chest to look at Kabuto, wondering what on earth Sasuke could be trusted with collecting.

Probably corpses.

They proceeded in silence for a while, sealing up the last few ruptured blood vessels. Calmer now that she had a fellow top-flight medic working with her and the situation was more stable, Sakura began to ruminate on the senselessness of the attack.

"You know, when you said that Sasuke was unbalanced, I thought you were exaggerating."

"I thought I was exaggerating too, quite frankly," said Kabuto as he pushed his glasses up with the only non-bloody part of his forearm. "I didn't realize how much his mania had developed since we last had him here. And he's good at masking it when he isn't being taken off guard by…"

"Me."

"Yes," said Kabuto. "I have a theory."

"Go on."

"I think it's safe to say that you represent a past life and a past happiness that Sasuke thought he had completely detached himself from and which he doesn't want to be reminded of," said Kabuto. "Ergo, you must die."

"Let's not forget the cursed seal doing noxious things to his mind," said Sakura darkly. "It started messing him up the day Orochimaru gave it to him. I remember – I was there. And it's had eight years to work on him, now…"

Kabuto inclined his head to concede the point.

"It's too bad neither of us fully understood the seriousness of this before he had this little spree," said Sakura, gesturing to their scarlet-dyed surroundings. "It's probably a good thing I'm leaving tomorrow."

"I would tend to agree."

Sakura searched Kabuto's face for any trace of discomfort at the mention of her ostensible departure, but she found herself unable to see his eyes: his glasses reflected light back at her and told her nothing.

"What are you going to do with Sasuke?"

"I'm going to confine him as soon as we're done here," said Kabuto.

" _Confine_ him?"

Kabuto gave Sakura a smirk over their mingling chakra. "I've learned something about controlling him since he's arrived… it shouldn't be a problem."

Sakura lifted a brow quizzically but said nothing. Something in Kabuto's look told her that the means of control he had developed weren't entirely ethical – were drugs involved, perhaps? Sedatives?

"We're still on for tomorrow morning at five," said Kabuto, interrupting her suppositions.

"This morning, you mean," Sakura corrected with a look at her watch. "I'll be ready."

The medic-nin bent their heads together for the last chakra push, the final the sealing of the dermis and epidermis that would make Kimimaro as good as new.

"Done. Phew. I can't say my medical abilities were allowed to get rusty while at Sound," said Sakura. She leaned toward the supine form of Kimimaro and watched his eyelids flutter. "He'll be coming around soon."

Kabuto, who was meticulously disinfecting all surfaces that had been touched during this impromptu operation, looked up suddenly.

"I just – I just realized something."

"What?"

"…You didn't have to heal him."

Sakura shot Kabuto a glance. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this fight was none of your business. It wasn't even routine training. If he had died, it wouldn't have been your fault."

"I'm hardly heartless enough to let him die just because I wasn't involved, Kabuto," said Sakura, suppressing some defensive bristling.

Kabuto continued his wiping and looked altogether too pensive.

"Besides," Sakura added, searching for a more suitable riposte, "don't you remember what you told me long ago? 'If he dies, your life is forfeit.' Those were your words. I'm counting on living to see tomorrow."

"Ah." Kabuto looked at Sakura over his glasses and gave her a grin. "Of course."

Sakura said nothing, wrestling internally with what Kabuto had just brought up and finding herself unable to reconcile herself with the statement that she had just made. The fact was, she realized miserably, she wouldn't have been able to let Kimimaro die even if her own life hadn't been on the line.

"I'll be back in three and a half hours," said Kabuto when Kimimaro's ward was back in its pristine state.

He slipped into the burnt-up bone-spiked wreckage that was Sakura's room and dragged her cot and blanket into Kimimaro's ward "I'm going to put this here. I can't let a prisoner sleep without a door, for form's sake. Even if it is your last night."

"I think you can trust me to not try anything funny. I wouldn't jeopardize my release," Sakura responded, piqued – she was nothing if not a cooperative hostage, especially since freedom seemed imminent. "But okay. For form's sake. Three and a half hours. I'll be ready."

Kabuto considered her with knowing eyes before pulling the door closed and setting up his usual barrier jutsu and Sakura wondered what the hell he was playing at.

She switched off the lights, sat cross-legged on her cot and leaned against the wall. She willed the remnants of adrenaline out of her system so that she could rest and be at least partially coherent in the morning.

Lights from miscellaneous medical paraphernalia blinked at her until she began to doze, unaware that somebody else had just awoken and was observing her with gentle eyes and the ghost of a smile.

VVV


	11. Chapter 11

What Kabuto was _playing at_ was a speculative sort of game.

Kabuto was observant. Kabuto was shrewd. Relatively intelligent too, he liked to think – one didn't survive years of servitude to Orochimaru by being a cretin.

Kabuto was also curious. He was curious in the way that the scientific and the analytical are: when presented with a problem, his first impulse was to slice open, dissect and anatomize until he reached a satisfactory solution.

Kabuto's current problem was this: he had a suspicion that the one Sound nin who could always be counted on for the sort of unquestioning obedience that Orochimaru demanded had, in the process of recovering his health, somehow transferred his obsessive infatuation from Orochimaru to a medic temporarily enlisted to heal him.

And that medic was not, from what Kabuto had observed, fully aware of this state of affairs. Or if she _was_ , her response was one which wasn't, in Kabuto's opinion, appropriately averse to it.

It was possible that like Kabuto, Sakura understood it as the psychological phenomenon that Kabuto thought it was: simply the deflection of Kimimaro's attention from one object to another when the first one was no longer accessible. And, being kind-hearted and – Kabuto allowed himself an eye-roll – _ethical_ , the medic responded with a kind of professional, neutral acceptance of Kimimaro's behavior.

However, he had seen enough to make him suspicious of their interactions. Small signs, insignificant in and of themselves but when they were considered as a whole…

Unfortunately, all of this conjecture was supremely unsatisfactory for a man like Kabuto trained in the hard sciences. Give him facts or give him death by inference.

And so, when the opportunity presented itself with the broken door incident, Kabuto had conceived of a beautifully simple way of reaching fact-based certainty: a discreet button microphone in the palm of his hand, snap-click on the metallic underside of Sakura's cot when he dragged it into Kimimaro's room, and he would have his answer in a matter of hours, one way or the other.

His other problem was that there lurked, somewhere beneath his solipsistic focus on himself, a desire to be in that room instead of the bone-sprouting aberration. But these were thoughts for later. For now, he had the Uchiha to sedate. And some listening to do.

VVV

In the semi-darkness of his ward, Kimimaro watched Sakura fall into a doze and gradually slide out of her sitting position to curl up on her little cot. He watched her take the quick, shallow breaths of one who is not sleeping soundly. He watched her eyebrows contract and her mouth pull down almost imperceptibly at whatever vision had emerged behind her eyelids. He watched her sigh, turn, and clutch at her blanket before drifting into more peaceful slumber.

The onset of minor nausea when he pushed himself into a sitting position reminded him of the ad hoc healing session that he had just undergone. He rubbed at the bandage covering the injured area and peeled it off when he felt no pain there. His skin wasn't even broken any more; whatever wound had remained post-healing was taken care of by his kekkei genkai's regenerative power.

His eyes settled once more on the slim form on the cot.

So. She had healed him again. Saved his life again. And what had he given her? What _could_ he give her?

The fact that he had himself saved her life on at least two occasions – including that very night – did not count, somehow. That was only the partial repayment an immense debt which included the resurrection – or something near it – of his once near-pulseless body, but also the injection of previously unknown impulses therein: an appetite for something more than a life of servitude, a yearning for something beyond the commands, a desire and hope for that guiltless spontaneity, the touching, shared beds, just _holding_ the girl…

Kimimaro sat in silence until the ticking of the clock began to intrude insistently on his musings. He listened to seconds become minutes and heard to those minutes trickle away into hours. The concluding seconds, the last minutes, the final hours of time with this person, this medic-girl, this _woman_ who had somehow become the focal point of his formerly closely-bound, sharply-delineated world…

The fact that she would be leaving was a reality which he had, until this point, avoided confronting relatively successfully, except in moments of weakness when her thoughtfulness and good will contrasted unbearably with the life he remembered before her, and the life he projected after her.

And now her departure was imminent and Kimimaro could only sit and suffer in silence from an ache in his chest which had nothing to do with his injury. She could probably alleviate this incomprehensible pain just as easily as she could all of his other lacerations, though it would, he knew, have to involve something other than her usual quick diagnosis and the green glow of healing chakra.

But the ache became such a prolonged pain and it returned with such insistent pounding at the thought of losing this one thing that was actually _precious_ to him that he couldn't keep still; he slipped off of his bed to squat at her side.

Eventually, his hand drifted towards Sakura, hesitated a moment, pushed a strand of hair from her face, and withdrew. It returned shortly afterwards and traced feather-light touches down her arm, then back up, up to the oh-so-warm neck and the cheek…

He pulled back in frustration.

It was ridiculous. This he had already ascertained some days previously.

It was weak. This too had been considered.

He who was the apex of his clan's bloodline and the summation of Orochimaru's dreams until disease ravaged him, he who had severed countless life-strings unfeelingly – and now, now he wanted nothing more than to feel…

It hurt. It hurt with an anguishing throb in the place in his chest that he didn't even know existed. It hurt with a pain so different, so much more acute than any he had previously experienced that he felt he might be sick with it and be consumed by it until it ached him away to a wretched bitterness.

His fingertips traced her cheek and then her jawline.

And it healed. It healed a desiccated spirit that had never had the chance to experience human interaction and human love. It coursed through dusty neural pathways whose previous activity was only indifference, or if not indifference, hate. It irrigated the barrens of inspiration, optimism, self-worth, and flooded them with potential. And it awakened the heart.

VVV

Thus did Sakura find herself lifted bodily and crushed against Kimimaro like he was going to break her. The air left her lungs until she was unable to breathe, much less scream, much less demand an explanation –

And then she was dropped lightly onto her cot again and two of Kimimaro's fingers were pressed against her lips while he looked at her with the shining eyes and vivid countenance of someone who has come to some epiphanic conclusion.

He sat back on his heels when he was certain that she wasn't going to scream and, almost unconsciously, brought those same fingers to his own mouth before breaking into the first real smile that Sakura had ever seen on his face. A smile that went past the very white, very even teeth to reach the green eyes and crinkle their corners.

More than slightly dazzled, slightly groggy, and slightly concerned, Sakura gave Kimimaro a visual once-over before reaching for his forehead. It was warm to the touch but definitely not feverish and so she pulled back, perplexed.

"Kimimaro. _What_ is the matter?"

"Nothing," said Kimimaro, staring at her with something akin to joy, or at least as much of such a sentiment as was possible on his inexpressive features. "Nothing is the matter."

Sakura raised an incredulous eyebrow, feeling increasingly grumpy about yet another nonsensical situation thrust onto her in the middle of the night. "Then what…? Are you feeling okay? I'm pretty sure I did a first-rate job on your stab wound but I might've missed something–"

Kimimaro shook his head no, bright-eyed with a febrile energy that he was having difficulty containing. "It was nothing. I am sorry for having awoken you. We… you – still have half an hour to sleep before Kabuto returns."

He drew in his lower lip – which his once-in-a-lifetime smile had managed to crack open again rather painfully – and nodded at the clock.

Still mildly disoriented, Sakura followed his line of sight and realized with a pang – _Stockholm's!_ – that he was right.

"Oh. Well, there's no way I'm going to sleep now, you really shook me up…" Sakura trailed off when Kimimaro crouched as near to the cot as was possible without actually being on it with her.

"Then?"

"Then…" Sakura surveyed the ward rather desperately for an activity she could suggest for herself or Kimimaro which would alleviate the expectant tension which suddenly permeated the room.

Ah. His black eye. His bloody lip. The old standby _._

"I could take care of this," said Sakura with a kind of triumphant relief, pointing at his black eye and split lip.

Kimimaro was taking over her personal space even more than usual, which was saying something. Sakura straightened up with a briskness she didn't feel and stayed one of Kimimaro's seeking hands before beginning work on his black eye.

"This won't take long," she said, putting gentle healing pressure around the scarlet markings of his eye.

Kimimaro closed his eyes tilted his face into Sakura's palm, as he had months ago when she had healed up a bruise on his jaw. This time, she did not pull away her hand – because at this point, with half an hour left… well, what the hell.

He sighed a small, contented sigh.

A teasing smile stole across Sakura's face. "These are pretty minor scratches, though. You could ask Kabuto to take care of them."

Kimimaro's reaction to Sakura's suggestion caused her to grin even more widely: his eyes flew open to stare fixedly at nothing at all before he turned to look at her with some degree of horror at such an idea.

However, when he saw her fighting a grin, he placed her hand back on his cheek with a _look_ and said, "no."

He was so docile under her hands now that she was reminded of his very different first reactions to her, when he had been tense and uncomfortable at the very thought of someone else's chakra in his system. Now he was the one nudging her and pushing her to continue, with this healing serving as an excuse for the delicious closeness which he so enjoyed… which, let's be honest, _they_ so enjoyed…

Sakura blinked hard to snap herself out of the debilitating mushiness which seemed to be taking over her bones but, alas, her willpower also appeared to have turned to jelly.

She hesitated for a moment – during which interval her idiot heart quashed all restraint, caution and self-discipline – before drawing her healing fingers across Kimimaro's cracked lip.

It was a good thing this was the simplest of operations because she was having real trouble concentrating, what with the unexpected softness she found there and the way his lips curved into a smile when she was finished and his searching mouth trailing downwards to her inner wrist to press what could only be a kiss there…

And then they were nose to nose and Sakura was unable to look up because she knew, she _knew_ that when she did all of those carefully-constructed barricades of hers would collapse at the sight of his refined features and his bewitching eyes and his utterly unguarded weakness for her… but his cheek nudged hers insistently and then his hands held her face and would not let her turn and did he always breathe that quickly?

Sakura closed her eyes and felt their exchange of breaths for the space of heartbeats until his nose bumped at hers and his mouth hovered above her skin. The antiseptic smell that she associated with him was filling her nose, and her awareness of quite how close he was was making her dizzy.

She opened her eyes and he was there, an inch away, and the longing in his gaze matched the one beating crazily in her chest.

He had a hand on the back of her neck and the other was warm on her cheek.

"Can I?" he asked in a breathless whisper.

Sakura was only able to nod; her throat was too tight to do otherwise. She saw his eyes brighten and she threaded her hands into his hair and pressed herself into him and found his mouth with hers.

When Sakura nearly tripped over her own bag while being half-dragged, half-carried by Kimimaro to a more comfortable location – his bed – her self-discipline returned with an acerbic vengeance: kissing was tantamount to admitting she had feelings for him, and _this_ would be tantamount to treasonous fornicati– er, fraternizing with the enemy.

This was unacceptable and dangerously stupid.

Her brain screamed stop even as she was pressing her lips to his like it was the last thing she would ever do, and his hands were gripping her hips like she was the last thing he would ever hold…

Sakura snapped back to reality with a lurch and pulled away from Kimimaro with unsteady knees and regret rising like bile in her throat – though whether the regret was at having stopped or at having _to_ stop, she was too flustered to analyze at this instant…

"Kimimaro, it's time. I have to go."

VVV

In his own quarters sat a markedly unimpressed Kabuto. He snapped off the small radio with an impatient flick.

Nothing interesting had been said at all. How disappointing. He'd heard himself mentioned but it was all in a perfectly legitimate context.

Aside from unexplained lapses into static-y silence – which could be attributed to anything from their unremarkable conversational skills to equipment malfunction – he had heard nothing of note.

So Sakura was a distant professional after all. Go figure.

After a glance at his watch, Kabuto swung his backpack on and made for Sakura's room at a brisk pace: he was one minute late.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note, July 16, 2016:** Ten years ago today, I uploaded the first chapters of Marrow to FFnet. Ten years. I haven't followed Naruto for a decade, so this fic is now very AU – a tale of a simpler time, when Orochimaru was the biggest threat to the Leaf and the Akatsuki were only a twinkle in Kishi's eye.

 

VVV

Sakura had all of ten seconds to compose herself before Kabuto arrived. She threw herself onto her cot and managed to assume a more-or-less neutral demeanor just as his knock sounded on the door to the ward.

He pushed open the door. When their eyes met, Sakura thought she detected a kind of latent suspicion simmering in his. This was confirmed when he turned away from her and scanned the room as though in search of something – but there was nothing interesting to see here, nothing but Sakura sitting innocently on her cot while Kimimaro lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

Of course, despite her calm exterior, Sakura's pulse was racing away because just a moment ago she had shattered her personal and professional principles about medic-patient relationships – not to mention completely disregarded that inconvenient Leaf-Sound enmity thing – and kissed Kimimaro.

But Kabuto didn't need to know that. As far as Sakura was concerned, Kabuto would never know that anything inappropriate had ever happened because, look, she was just sitting here, serenely braiding her hair, a consummate professional and peaceful detainee till the end – one who would never do anything untoward, certainly nothing of _that_ nature, and certainly not while in a hostage situation that was so so close to being resolved; she wasn't that much of an idiot, obviously…

(She was an idiot and, if she lived to see another day, she deserved a smack upside the head for this latest demonstration of idiocy.)

"So – is it time?" asked Sakura when Kabuto's suspicious black eyes found her again.

Kabuto did not answer her immediately, electing instead to pin Kimimaro with a searching look. Kimimaro spared him a bored glance before producing a bone dagger that he spun from fingertip to fingertip while generally conveying the notion that this exercise was vastly more interesting than Kabuto was.

"It's almost time," said Kabuto. "Grab your things and come with me."

"Almost…?" repeated Sakura as she got to her feet and hoisted up her bag.

"Orochimaru has asked to see you before you go."

This news was as unexpected as it was unwelcome. Sakura felt her mouth run dry. "Orochimaru? Why…?"

Kabuto's face grew grave. "He didn't specify. But then, he never does."

"Oh…"

"Yeah. Let's not keep him waiting," said Kabuto, disappearing into the charred, bone-spurred mess that had formerly been Sakura's room.

Sakura followed him out the door, so disconcerted by this development that she almost forgot to turn around and give Kimimaro a parting glance. He was sitting on the edge of his bed now, his face as impassive as ever – but a flicker of worry darkened his eyes.

With growing dread, Sakura followed Kabuto to the audience hall. The questions that she peppered him with as they walked revealed no further information; Kabuto was as clueless as she was and seemed almost as tense.

He pulled open the heavy double doors that led to the hall and ushered her in. They made their way to the raised platform at the end of the gloomy room and stood there in silence.

A shadow detached itself from darker shadows on Sakura's left.

"Ah, Sakura," came that voice in the dark – that voice of mingled velvet and venom that filled her with dread.

Sakura swallowed. It had been a long time since she had seen Orochimaru and in that interval she knew that she had managed to royally tick him off. This knowledge did nothing to set her at ease.

"Don't be so _shy_ , girl – come closer."

Fear made her timid; she took a few faltering steps towards Orochimaru and stopped. Then she felt Kabuto's hand in the small of her back, pushing her on with a steady pressure.

"Sit," said Orochimaru when she was close enough. He gestured to the few steps at his feet.

This was weird. Everything about this was _weird_. Sakura felt an electric rush of chakra in her system as every instinct told her to smash her way out of here while she still could.

This desperate flight reaction made the idea of sitting difficult; it was only Sakura's excellent self-discipline that allowed her to drop down with relative grace onto the cold stone steps. Kabuto retreated, as was his habit, to lean against a shadowy pillar some distance away.

And then, to Sakura's surprise – and increasing discomfort – Orochimaru sat himself on the steps next to her, like a friend would, which made Sakura's skin crawl, because he was not a friend, nor was he anything remotely close to that…

His face was the same as she remembered: peculiarly ageless, pale in the dark, and those golden eyes framed by violet tear-lines… whatever poor person had given up his body to him had been superseded completely by Orochimaru's appearance as well as his soul.

"And how are we this morning?" asked Orochimaru with, it seemed to Sakura, an exaggerated degree of solicitation.

"I'm fine," said Sakura in a small voice as she wondered, _is this how I die?_

Orochimaru must have detected her nervousness. He tutted softly at her and placed a hand on her knee in a gesture that was probably supposed to be comforting but elicited in Sakura twin thrills of horror instead: the first because his cool touch on her knee was abhorrent to her on a visceral level and the second because he obviously had full use of his arms again, and that was a terrifying thing.

She stared at Orochimaru's hands. This meant that he was now back at full power for the first time since he had killed the Third.

A slow smirk on his part told her that he understood her realization.

"Wonderful, isn't it," said Orochimaru, holding up his hands and wiggling his long fingers, as though the sensation was still new and something to be savoured. "Of course, I am not in the body that I wanted to be in, but it will do until the next one…"

Sakura found herself frowning at these words in spite of her fear: Orochimaru had taken someone's body – someone's _life_ – and only viewed it as a stepping-stone to the next thing.

"You scowl your disapproval just like dear Tsunade used to," said Orochimaru as though Sakura was being particularly endearing. "You are very like her, you know."

As non-threatening as it was, his tone gave Sakura the shivers. She masked her trepidation with a glare, which was probably, in retrospect, also very Tsunade-like. This appeared to amuse Orochimaru further.

"She is so full of fire. _Must_ we let her go?" asked Orochimaru to the room at large.

Sakura glanced up. Kabuto's glasses glinted in the dark. He said nothing in response to his master's question.

But – let her go? Sakura felt her spirits lifting in spite of herself, in spite of her conviction that this was all a trick.

She found the courage to look into Orochimaru's eyes. "Am I being released today? Truly?"

Silence followed this question, just long enough to make her uncomfortable.

"Yes," said Orochimaru at length. "Against my better judgement, but I was _convinced_ , you see."

The very tip of his tongue protruded out in a small grimace. "Dear Kabuto reminded me of that promise I made – so long ago now, it seems – and I _do_ like to be a man of my word…"

Kabuto's shadowy form shifted. Sakura had spent sufficient time with him to understand the movement as an unconscious indicator of discomfort.

"You recall the terms of our agreement, of course," said Orochimaru.

Had Sakura been braver – or stupider – she would've asked him to clarify which agreement, exactly, because there had been a second iteration of it, and a third, and a fourth, as he and Kabuto had manipulated her over successive weeks and months…

She held her tongue.

"You have fulfilled your end of the bargain – more or less," said Orochimaru. "Though you did not do it within my desired timelines–"

Here Sakura straightened up and opened her mouth, because those irrational timelines had been imposed on her after the fact.

"– _Despite_ that, I say," continued Orochimaru, "you healed Kimimaro for me – a subject who was beyond all hope of recovery. For that, you have my gratitude."

Sakura swallowed away her indignation and gave him a small nod.

"And, at the time, I promised not to take Sasuke as my vessel," said Orochimaru. He held out his hands towards her, as though to remind her that it was another man's body that he had taken. "I have also abided by that promise."

All she wanted to do was get out of here alive. That was it. She wasn't going to argue. She wasn't going to argue. She wasn't–

"There's something you didn't tell me about Sasuke," said Sakura.

(Yep, there it was. She did it. She just couldn't keep her big mouth shut.)

"What about dear Sasuke?" asked Orochimaru.

There was a dangerous softness in his voice and a glimmer of something in his eyes that reminded Sakura of exactly who she was talking to, and so she would be wise to tread carefully…

Sakura struggled to reconstruct the accusation on her tongue into something softer. "I found out that he actually wants to be the next vessel."

"Oh, yes," said Orochimaru. "As I recall, I did tell you that I would not _take_ him as my next vessel."

"Yes," said Sakura.

"But we did not make mention of him _giving_ himself to me, did we? An unfortunate oversight…"

This was pedantry, pure and simple, and he was even more shameless about it than Kabuto. He was going to ruin Sasuke's life on the basis of _semantics…_

Sakura's temper, which had been cowed by her dread for this monster-man, awoke with a flash of heat in her chest, and with it her chakra flared in spite of her best attempts to keep it muffled.

A lesser shinobi might have flinched or blinked at the power promised in that flare, but Orochimaru was unmoved; indeed, the corner of his mouth lifted as though this display was an amusing thing.

"You mustn't be upset, dear Sakura," said Orochimaru, placing his hand on her knee again. "You healed Kimimaro and, in doing so, you opened up my options. Before you came along, you and your extraordinary talent for healing, I would have used Sasuke without a doubt. But now I have a choice – and you know that Kimimaro was, and remains, my first choice."

Sakura pulled her knee out from under his hand as politely as she could; his touch was making her skin crawl.

"Do you gamble, Sakura?"

"No," said Sakura.

"Ah, Tsunade did not impart that particular vice on you," said Orochimaru, his wide mouth curling at the edges. "Nevertheless, you will understand when I say that you have vastly improved Sasuke's odds. If you hadn't agreed to this, there was a one-hundred percent chance that I would use Sasuke as my next vessel. And now that chance is _considerably_ lessened. You bought Sasuke that much, my dear. That was very good of you."

Sakura felt her enmity for this manipulative man surge. Eyes of angry green met eyes serpentine. "I didn't want to buy him a _chance_. I wanted to buy his _freedom_."

"His freedom," repeated Orochimaru, looking pensively at the ceiling as though this was an interesting philosophical discussion and not a matter of life and death.

"Sasuke had his freedom," said Orochimaru. "And how he decided to use it, my dear, was not up to you."

Sakura hated these words because she knew that they were true. But she also knew that Sasuke was a revenge-obsessed idiot who didn't know how profoundly deep in shit he was, who was so blinded by the idea of vengeance and so deeply affected by the cursed seal that he couldn't see it making him throw away his life…

"And, anyway – are you not glad to have saved Kimimaro's life?" asked Orochimaru, his long black hair falling to the side as he tilted his head at her.

Sakura narrowed her eyes. "That's beside the point."

"Ah," said Orochimaru. He studied her for a long moment. "I am told that he is quite taken with you."

Sakura shrugged. "I treat him like a person. It's probably a nice change."

"Mm. Kindness begets kindness, they say. It is not a philosophy that I subscribe to myself. However… I do occasionally make exceptions. I am making one right now, in spite of my better judgement."

He glanced to where Kabuto stood. Kabuto's glasses reflected back torchlight, briefly, and Sakura wondered just how much she owed him.

"I have asked Kabuto to take you back to the Country of Fire," said Orochimaru.

Sakura stared up at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I expect that you will tell dear Tsunade about all of your little adventures here," continued Orochimaru, "all of your findings, all of the things you may have discovered about Otogakure that may be of interest to the Leaf… I also expect you to remind her that you were well-treated while in Otogakure and delivered back to her safe and sound."

He looked expectantly at Sakura at this point; she nodded her agreement.

"Because Tsunade… Tsunade knows that there is much worse I could have done with you than borrow you for six months and send you back perfectly intact," said Orochimaru.

Sakura swallowed. She knew this to be true, too. Orochimaru regained his feet and motioned her to stand, which she did with growing apprehension. His cool hands clasped her shoulders.

"So. I will wish you farewell," said Orochimaru. "And I would like to leave you with a parting offer, for you to think about in times to come."

Sakura wanted to do nothing more than shrug his hands off of her shoulders. She resisted the urge with difficulty.

"I value competence highly – far more highly than the Leaf," said Orochimaru.

Sakura looked up at him and said nothing.

"They have you managing hospitals. I would have you change the world. I abide by no rules, no regulations, no _laws_ – I would have you find the limits of your potential in a way that they never could. Do you understand what I am offering you?"

In the shadows, Kabuto shifted. He knew what Sakura's opinion on this kind of offer was; she had rebuffed similar ones from him quite rudely in the past. As in those cases, as Orochimaru's words began to sink in, it took all of her willpower not to let herself be mortally offended that he thought her so pliable and power-thirsty that she would ever consider defecting from her village.

"I understand," said Sakura.

"There is a place for you in the Sound," said Orochimaru. "Consider it."

"Thank you," said Sakura.

Orochimaru studied her for a long moment. Sakura stared back and hoped that it was the last time in her life that she would ever see that hateful golden gaze.

"Farewell, then, Sakura," said Orochimaru.

Sakura gave him a small bow.

"Go. Wait outside. I must speak with Kabuto before he leaves."

Sakura didn't wait to be told twice; she was hard-pressed to keep from sprinting out of the audience chamber.

VVV

Kimimaro was waiting in the passageway when Sakura pulled the heavy door shut behind her. Anxious hands took hers and squeezed them and worried fingers ran down her cheek.

"He's finishing with Kabuto," said Sakura in a whisper. "And then I'm leaving."

"I do not want you to leave," said Kimimaro.

"I have to, Kimimaro. You know that. I can't stay here forever – I have a life waiting for me back in Konoha…"

"But. You are important to me."

Sakura opened and closed her mouth; she did not have a ready answer. Why did he have to go and say things like this, and make this already fraught situation even more stupidly complicated?

She looked over her shoulder. They didn't have much time before Orochimaru and Kabuto finished up in the audience hall.

"That's – that's so sweet of you to say," said Sakura, holding his hands in hers, "and you're important to me, too, but I have to go home, I _want_ to go home…"

Kimimaro's pain-filled eyes searched hers and her idiot heart made her feel like she was betraying him, somehow, even if, rationally, she knew that she was doing the right thing here.

It didn't make it hurt any less, to see herself as he must see her, leaving, abandoning him, tearing up his fragile new emotions so brusquely – but it had to be done. She didn't have a choice; anything else was lunacy.

She squeezed his hands. "So I – I guess this is goodbye."

Kimimaro stood stock-still and silent – either shocked or upset or, more likely, completely clueless as to how to proceed with goodbyes. Knowing that they probably had only a few minutes of privacy left, Sakura decided to take matters into her own hands: she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him into a hug.

The action was enough to thaw him out – and then he made Sakura squeak with the strength of his returning hug and he pulled her up against him so that she barely touched the ground with the tips of her toes.

Sakura pushed her face into his neck, where she breathed in his antiseptic soapy smell for quite possibly the last time.

She had things to say but her throat felt so very tight…

"Listen, Kimimaro, I–"

She cut herself off and closed her eyes and held him harder, and she felt his arms around her tighten even more, and then his hands passed over her hips, into the curve of the small of her back, along her waist, as though committing it all to memory.

"I'm happy to be leaving here," whispered Sakura into Kimimaro's neck, "but I'm sad to be leaving you. I want you to know that."

She released him just enough that she could look into his face. "But – but whatever this was, this _thing_ – it's over. It was over before it even began, you know? You're a Sound shinobi, and I'm from the Leaf, we're enemies – at least, we're supposed to be…"

"No," breathed Kimimaro.

Sakura didn't know how Kimimaro managed to imbue a single look with so much longing and hurt and sadness, but somehow, he did, and Sakura had to turn away because, god damn, here came the tears.

"Please – please do not cry because of me," he said, appalled. He tried to wipe her tears away as they spilled through her lashes and onto her cheeks – and he failed miserably, because they were coming too fast now.

Sakura stanched the flow by stuffing her face into his chest. His heart was racing; she could hear and feel it where she was pressed against him.

"Can't help it," sniffed Sakura. "How can I _not_ cry. Orochimaru is going to take you as his next vessel – he wants you more than Sasuke."

"Please," said Kimimaro in a voice filled with dismay. "It hurts me to see you hurting."

"T-too bad," said Sakura. "It's so unfair, it's not right – you're _good_ , you deserve better, you deserve to live your life–"

She was too choked up on this injustice, this horror, and her own powerlessness in the face of it, to continue. His pulse drummed away in her ear, his hands gripped at her, he was trembling.

Sakura pulled back to look at him with tear-bright eyes.

"Kimimaro – this is the last time I'll see you and you'll actually be _you_. And not _him_."

When her words registered, there was a sudden pained realization in the depths of his eyes; a sudden fear; a sudden deep, deep sorrow.

She saw something in him break.

And now the heavy doors behind her were opening. Low sounds of conversation made their way into the hallway; Kabuto was exchanging some parting words with his master before stepping out.

Sakura felt the brush of Kimimaro's dry lips against hers, the softness of his hair against her cheek, the warmth of his fingers on her wrists. He whispered a tender whisper of something she didn't quite catch and vanished down the dark passageway.

A split second later, Kabuto was stepping out of the hall. Sakura wiped away her tears in a hurry but, in spite of her best efforts at keeping her sniffles under control, he noticed.

"What the hell's gotten you all choked up?" asked Kabuto with a frown. "You do realize that you're leaving Otogakure, right? I thought you'd be happy…"

"I _am_ happy," said Sakura.

A few more sobs bought her enough time to make up a plausible excuse. "I just – I just feel like I failed Sasuke."

This excuse was rendered even more convincing by the fact that it was mostly true. That, coupled with her perfectly pathetic delivery, made Kabuto shake his head as they made their way outside.

"Man. You still love that guy, after what he tried to do to you?"

"I don't know," said Sakura. "But I don't want him to just… disappear. I saw Orochimaru just now. I saw _only_ Orochimaru – there wasn't a trace of the other guy left. The one who became his vessel. Genyumaru."

"So?"

"So that might very well be Sasuke in a few years. Just – _gone_."

(It might very well be Kimimaro in a few years, too; she couldn't decide which was worse just now.)

"You can't control what Sasuke decides to do with his life," said Kabuto with a significant degree of irritation as he led the way down the hall. "You can't blame yourself for it."

"I know."

Kabuto said nothing, but the look he gave her a look over his glasses indicated that he really didn't believe her. Then he swung his backpack around to his front and fished around in it for a moment.

"Here," he said, handing a small ration packet to Sakura.

"I'm really not hungry," said Sakura, wiping away the last of her tears.

"Don't care. Eat it," said Kabuto. "You haven't had anything since dinner and there's a long walk ahead of us."

Sakura wrinkled her nose and ate the dry carby thing – some kind of cake – not enjoying its overpowering sweet flavour or the way it seemed to suck all of the saliva out of her mouth.

"This is probably the worst thing I've eaten here," said Sakura as they made their way down a winding corridor that opened onto the greater courtyard.

"I'm hurt," said Kabuto. "I made it just for you."

Sakura swallowed the last mouthful with a grimace. "Well… don't quit your day job. Baking isn't your thing."

Kabuto smirked. "Noted."

They came to a halt in front of the gate at the base of the wall. Sakura found herself actually growing a little excited, because maybe this was actually going to happen, maybe she was actually going to be free…

A minute passed during which Kabuto made a few hand seals and pressed his palms against the gate. Then he appeared to be waiting for something. Figuring that the paranoid mess of jutsus that Orochimaru had set up might well take some time to deactivate, Sakura waited patiently along with him.

She glanced up at the dark sky where, in the east, the slightest tinge of pink suggested that dawn might be on the way.

It was strange, how the pink glow seemed to grow larger and then shrink, almost in sync with her heartbeat. Actually, now that she was paying attention, all of the lights were doing that – the stars, the few torches flickering along the walls, all pulsing in this strange way, it was making her feel lightheaded and…

"Shit," said Sakura.

There was a sedative in her system. She could feel it languidly beginning to grope at her senses, at her brain. A quick self-scan told her the source of the drug was in her stomach – that nasty cake, _god damn Kabuto, the filthy lying son of a bitch…_

Sakura set her chakra to work immediately, denaturing the sedative as fast as she could. But her concentration was shot and now everything had grown blurry and was still pulsing to her heartbeat, which was now racing, and the effect was more disorienting than ever… she felt her knees hit the ground and still she forced her chakra to pull the drugs apart and dissolve them away, but it was so hard to focus on it when everything was so thickly fuzzy that she wasn't sure whether she was pushing chakra to her stomach or her lungs or even pushing it at all…

"You impress me every time," came Kabuto's voice. "It's incredible that you're still fighting it, there was enough in there for a whole squadron…"

Sakura slurred some very unladylike oaths in his general direction – she could see him, a vague purple and grey blur pulsing away in front of her.

Her vision began to tunnel.

"Don't be mad at me. You're still going home, Sakura. You would just have been a huge bother if you were conscious… this is going to be simpler."

Her fight was over. Everything had gone dark and she couldn't feel her own body, much less control her chakra. She slumped forwards and was caught by Kabuto.

"You know, it still gets me," she heard him say, distantly, as he held her against him. "I wish we'd been able to find that common ground…"

VVV

A hundred years passed in a place of nothingness – no light, no sound, no tactile stimuli, nothing but endless velvety darkness, for days and months and years.

Returning to consciousness was like trying to swim up through quicksand; an irresistible lethargy kept pulling her downwards into the black.

Sakura drifted into awareness after a long struggle with Kabuto's potent sedative. She opened her eyes. Above her were the silhouettes of trees, dark against a painfully blue sky.

She could hear her own breathing, loud in her ears.

The air tasted different.

And now there were noises, indistinct sounds made by the indistinct things that were dancing on the edge of her vision…

They were people. People leaning over her, hands touching her, a mumble of voices that her brain could not yet process.

Something flashed in the sun: a hitai-ate bearing the spiral of the Leaf.

And then the words started to make a little more sense: _is this…? It's her. It's Sakura Haruno. No way – she's dead. They found the body. Then explain this? We need a medic – medic! Someone send a message to the Hokage. I think she's awake. Is she awake? She's awake! No, no she's not, not anymore… medic's on the way…_

VVV


	13. Chapter 13

In a way, it was almost better to return to the Leaf like this – sequestered in a hospital room with a very short list of allowed visitors, gradually acclimatizing herself to her return to Konoha as Konoha acclimatized itself to her. Because Sakura Haruno had been missing for five months and confirmed dead for one – her body had been found on the border with Suna; wild things had eaten half of it and sun and rot had taken their toll on the rest…

Sakura came to understand in the days that followed that the whole village had gone into mourning over the death of the pretty pink-haired medic-nin, you know the one, the kind girl who worked those endless hours at the hospital and snuck in sweets for the kids and had healed up X's wife, and saved Y's life, and delivered Z's babies, and and and…

A lot of people had gone through a lot of pain because of Kabuto's little fake-corpse stunt. He was an asshole of the grandest kind and if Sakura ever saw him again, she was giving him that concussion.

In any case, her hospital stay allowed word of her return to spread over the course of a few days, word that Sakura Haruno was alive and that she was back, so that she wouldn't be attacked on sight as an impostor, or cause a ruckus because someone thought they'd seen an apparition…

Kakashi noted to her in a low voice one evening that it also gave them time to get rid of the memorial that they had erected for her near the temple, before she accidentally came across it, which would have been awkward. Sakura asked him what they had written on it and when she heard the words of respect and love and sorrow that had been inscribed there, she found herself tearing up and kicked Kakashi out so that he wouldn't see her cry.

As the days passed, her short list of permitted visitors grew longer. First it was limited to Tsunade, Naruto, Ino, and Kakashi, and then it grew to other friends, colleagues both of the shinobi and medical persuasions, former patients, neighbours… All in all, it was enough to make Sakura feel very loved, and very appreciated, as she recovered, almost to the point of being overwhelming.

About four days into her return, the door to Sakura's hospital room was flung open in the way that only Tsunade could fling it; it left a beautiful imprint of itself where it smacked into the wall.

"Konoha's Council is made up of actual, literal, turds," declared Tsunade by way of greeting.

In her wake trotted Tonton, who judiciously decided to trade off her mistress's wrath for Sakura's gentle pets and therefore hopped up onto her bed.

"What happened?" asked Sakura, sitting up to scratch the pig's ears.

"I tabled a motion to declare war on the Sound for impinging on Leaf sovereignty, for breaking the terms of our five-year no-hostility agreement, and for generally being assholes," said Tsunade.

"And…?"

"I was overruled," said Tsunade. "Outvoted, actually. What's the point of being Hokage if I can't even declare war? I should fire them all."

Sakura was silent, because Tsunade was in a Mood, but she was relieved to hear that this was the outcome of Tsunade's newest and most vengeful pet project: she did not want any lives lost on her account.

Tsunade turned to her with narrowed eyes. "Don't just sit there like you don't have an opinion, Sakura. You always have an opinion."

"You're going to be angry with me," said Sakura.

"I'm angry with everyone," said Tsunade.

Sakura conceded that point with a quick grin. "Okay, okay… I don't want you to go to war with the Sound. They _did_ breach the agreement, and they _are_ assholes. And we'd win, because we're Konoha and we out-ninja every other village out there – but Orochimaru would take down some of us with him, maybe many of us, and I don't want that on my conscience. There. That's my opinion."

Tonton snuffled her warm wet snout into Sakura's hand.

Tsunade's back had stiffened and her arms were crossed, which was never a good sign.

"I'm _back_ , Tsunade," said Sakura in her most mollifying tones. "And alive, and _safe_. And now we know that Sasuke is alive, and mostly safe, at least for the next few years. So what more can we ask for, really?"

"Orochimaru's head," said Tsunade, not even remotely placated. "Obviously."

Sakura stifled a laugh. No, her temper didn't quite match Tsunade's yet. Give her a few more years, maybe…

Tsunade was staring at her reflection in the window, muttering away to herself. "I still can't believe that man's _gall_ , commandeering you for half a year, like he had any _right_ , and sending my teams to _three different countries_ on false leads, and then making us all think you were _dead_ because it was _inconvenient_ to him to have us still on your trail, like I'd _ever_ give up on you…"

"I know… but I told you, they treated me well, all things considered," said Sakura. "It could've been so much worse."

"If I ever see Orochimaru again," said Tsunade, "I _will_ kill him."

This conclusion seemed to assuage her anger and bring her some semblance of peace. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"So how are you?" she asked, turning to Sakura. "I saw the results of this morning's scan. Looks like we've managed to pull out most of Kabuto's cocktail. But then again, this is the seventh day that it's been in your system – that was a hell of a dose he gave you. Does the bloody fool think you're a horse?"

"I think he was worried about me recovering too fast," said Sakura. "I fought off his first sedative pretty damn quick when they caught me, and he saw what I managed to heal with Kimimaro, and he knows we can heal ourselves even better than we can heal others, so I guess he was paranoid about me waking up…"

Tsunade exhaled sharply. "I've just decided. I'll have his head, too."

Sakura felt that a change of subject was in order before Tsunade decided to decapitate the world at large.

"So when am I getting discharged? I feel fine, honestly – and bedrest is _really boring_. I can see why people complain about it. It reminds me of when–"

Here Sakura cut herself off, because she was thinking of Kimimaro and his stubborn attempts to get up when he was on mandatory bedrest and her own stubborn attempts to keep him down.

"When what?"

"Oh," said Sakura, "there was a… a patient of mine who complained a lot about bedrest. I can't think of his name, now."

Tsunade's piercing hazel eyes scanned Sakura up and down. Sakura looked back blankly; she hadn't brought up Kimimaro much other than as the guy she'd had to heal to make this Sasuke deal. Some defensive instinct told her it would be better to keep it that way for now; she wasn't sure how to explain her emotional entanglement with him to herself, much less anyone else, and so avoidance seemed the wiser course.

"Mm. You're staying another night at the very least," said Tsunade. "Then we'll talk about you going back to your place. Where I will, by the way, be setting you under setting ANBU surveillance for the foreseeable future."

"What? But–"

"My decision is final, on both counts," interrupted Tsunade, straightening her shoulders and glaring down at Sakura imperiously. "I won't lose you again."

Then she reached over and tucked away a loose strand of hair behind Sakura's ear. "For now, get some rest. Take all the time you need…"

"Thank you," said Sakura.

"…And when you're ready, you can report your ass to Shizune and start taking some shifts, because right now I'm running a hospital _and_ a village and I'm surrounded by incompetents and it's only a matter of time before I fling someone out of a window."

"Yes ma'am," said Sakura.

A rare smile flashed across Tsunade's face. "Good. I've missed you. Now I'm going to let you get some rest. The Yamanaka girl was hanging around in the lobby, pretending not to see me. She's supposed to be at work. Mind you tell her that when she comes in. And tell her she has ten minutes with you, no more."

The sharp clack of Tsunade's heels receded down the hallway to the left, followed by Tonton's stumpy trot.

Ino's blonde head peeked over from the right side of the door a moment later.

"How does she know I'm supposed to be at work? This could be my day off."

"She knows everything," said Sakura.

Then, as Ino walked in, she pointed out, "you're also in your work clothes."

"True," said Ino, looking down at her jounin vest and slacks. "God, I rock this uniform. Have you seen my butt in these pants? Look at my butt. I mean, just look at it."

Sakura laughed as Ino demonstrated with various poses. "Beautiful."

"Yeah, so I'm totally skipping work," said Ino, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. "I'm supposed to be interrogating a guy, but I'm going to let him stew for another hour. Ibiki says it's an effective interrogation technique – keeping them waiting, keeping them on their toes."

Ino clambered onto the bed beside Sakura. "Whatever. Let's be honest, I don't need any of Ibiki's cheeseball techniques when I can just climb into their brains and have a good old shuffle around their deepest darkest memories. But – today it was convenient, because I can let him stew while I come and see you."

"What's the guy in trouble for?"

"Perving at the bath house," said Ino. "We've got some high-level criminals in this town."

"Gross," said Sakura. "Are you _sure_ you want to see his deepest darkest memories?"

Ino looked suddenly perturbed. "Um. Ew. You're probably right."

She fished around in one of her pockets. "Speaking of ew. You've been on hospital food for a week, so I smuggled this in for you."

Sakura took the chocolate bar proffered by Ino. "Thanks – but – ugh, the last time I ate what someone handed to me, I passed out for days…"

"If I wanted to roofie you, I would've done it a long time ago," said Ino sweetly.

Sakura laughed and ate the chocolate and found it to be delicious: it had been a damn long time since she'd had chocolate.

"Stop _moaning_ ," said Ino with a scandalized look at the door. "People will hear… there'll be _rumours_ …"

"But it's so good," said Sakura between mouthfuls. "Besides, there are already rumours."

"True," said Ino. She sighed. "We _would_ be so hot together."

Sakura licked melted chocolate off of her fingertips and wiggled her eyebrows at Ino. They managed to look at each other seductively for about twenty seconds before collapsing into giggles. (It was a wonderful moment; briefly, Sakura forgot that everything wasn't okay.)

Ino sobered up and shifted her seat, pulling her knees up to her chin. To Sakura, the movement made her lose 20 years; it was how she used to sit when they were little girls.

"God, I missed you," said Ino. "Do you know how much I cried?"

"I know," said Sakura. "I feel horrible."

"Good," said Ino. She winced suddenly, as though she had just recollected something painful. "Oh my god. My last words to you before you left…"

"What were they? I can't even remember the last time we spoke to each other, a lot of shit's gone down since then."

Ino dropped her head into her hands. "I've been replaying it in my head and feeling like the world's biggest douchebag…"

"Tell me," said Sakura, "so I can make you writhe in guilt."

Ino shot her a look. "This is serious, okay. I'm _traumatized_."

"Okay, okay, I'm being serious…"

"You really don't remember? I ran into you while you were heading out to Suna. I was on the way to work. I said 'have fun, Fivehead' and you said 'bye, Tonton.'"

"That sounds par for the course for us," said Sakura, feeling slightly hysterical laughter welling up inside.

"You had your hair up in some kind of a messy-ass pile, like you'd done it two weeks ago and then forgotten that you had hair… so I said 'what is up with your hair, you look like a hobo,' but you were too busy reading something like the nerd you are and you didn't answer me…"

Sakura bit her lip.

"So for the past _month_ , I've been convinced that you're _dead_ , and the last thing I said to you wasn't about our friendship or how beautiful you are or how I love you, it was that you had _hobo hair_ …"

"Hobo hair," repeated Sakura in a voiceless whisper. "You asshole…"

She managed to keep her face straight for one more second before she shrieked with laughter and, shortly afterwards, so did Ino.

They recovered a few breathless minutes later.

"Your hair's gotten really long, you know," said Ino, passing her fingers through Sakura's ponytail. "Almost to your waist, look. Are you trying to compete with me? You won't win."

"I should probably get it cut," said Sakura.

"It looks good on you," said Ino. She put her chin back on her knees. "I still can't believe you're back. This is kind of surreal for me."

"Same," said Sakura. "Some nights while I was there, I was a hundred percent convinced that I'd never see any of you again. And now – now I wake up, assuming I'm still there. But I'm not – I'm _here_ , I'm back, and I can see how much pain I put everyone through. Everyone I meet, everyone who missed me, who thought I _died_ , it just hurts me every time…"

They reached for each other's hands. Sakura found herself blinking away tears.

"Stop making me cry, you jerk," said Ino with a sniffle. "I've cried enough for you…"

Sakura pulled up her sheet and sobbed out a few sobs into it.

Ino stared fixedly at the ceiling and said, "I will be strong."

Then they both broke down and had a wonderful, cathartic, ugly cry on each other's shoulders.

VVV

Sakura was officially discharged two days later and was able to return to her apartment. There she found that her lovely neighbours had gotten wind of her return and had cleaned up six months' worth of dust – and also plied her fridge and countertops with more food than she could eat in weeks.

"Someone kept my plants alive?" said Sakura, stepping out onto her sunny balcony and finding that they weren't just alive, they were thriving. "Was that you, Naruto?"

Naruto followed her out and mumbled something that sounded like "yeahofcourse."

"He's lying, that was Hinata," came Ino's voice from the depths of Sakura's apartment. "As if Naruto would be that thoughtful."

Ino spent the afternoon doing loads of Sakura's laundry, "because it stinks like musty closet," and Naruto occupied himself primarily with helping to diminish the piles of fruit baskets and sweets that lined the counter.

As for Sakura, she went from one room to another, not quite believing that she was back at her place. She stretched out on her bed, went into her office and touched each precious book lining her shelves, ran into her kitchen for a bonbon at Naruto's insistence, hugged Ino just because, sprawled out on her sofa…

The few framed photos on the coffee table caught her attention. She picked up the photograph of her mother first (deceased 6 years ago after a brief battle with an aggressive cancer – the experience had been a big part of Sakura's decision to pursue medic training). Then she picked up that old photo of Team 7, with young Sakura looking so happy, and young Sasuke and Naruto shooting death-glares at each other, and Kakashi trying valiantly to keep the peace long enough for the photo to be snapped…

Naruto threw himself onto the sofa next to her and studied the picture over her shoulder. She didn't need to follow his line of sight to know that they were both focusing on Sasuke's face.

Naruto grew serious. "I still can't believe what he's become."

"I know," said Sakura. "I witnessed it firsthand and I can't believe it."

Naruto passed a hand through his hair, leaving it even more fantastically spiky than before. "I have a goddamn malicious fox demon in me. I'm supposed to be the messed up one of the three of us. Not him. How did we go so wrong?"

"There's nothing we could've done differently," said Sakura. "He made some – some bad decisions, but they were his decisions to make. And that goddamn cursed seal is only amplifying the worst of him…"

"This sucks," said Naruto.

"It really does," said Sakura.

"I'm not giving up on him," said Naruto. "I never will."

Sakura looked at him and saw that his blue eyes were as bright as ever with the light of that indomitable friendship and steadfast belief that he could make everything right.

She didn't feel up to the task of bringing him to ground. "You're a better friend than he deserves."

"I know," said Naruto.

"And I'm a better friend than _you_ deserve," said Ino, squeezing herself onto the sofa between them. "How many bazillion scrubs do you _have_?"

"Well, I basically live in them, so… a lot."

"I'd insult your sad-ass wardrobe but I'm too scared you'll go off and die again," said Ino.

Then the three of them sat together and spoke of normal boring everyday things that normal boring people talk about, and it was wonderful – Ino's various flings, a new restaurant in town, the hospital, juicy rumours about Kakashi and Shizune, rent, the upcoming Chuunin exams…

For that hour, Sakura was able to forget about her ordeal at the Sound and pretend that nothing had changed and that she'd just been on an extended holiday. She knew, in the back of her mind, that she was just fooling herself, but it was nevertheless a pleasant sort of relief.

As the sun began to send long shadows across the floor, Ino and Naruto gathered their things – including half the perishable foods that Sakura had received, at her insistence – and got ready to head home.

"You sure you're going to be okay tonight?" said Ino as she slipped on her shoes. "You're welcome to sleep over if you want…"

"I'll be fine," said Sakura. "I'm really happy to be back here, honestly."

"You know where we are if you need us," said Naruto. "And there's like, three ANBU dudes creeping on your roof, just so you know."

"I know," grimaced Sakura. "Tsunade's orders."

"Good," said Ino. "They're going to keep you safe."

Naruto disappeared out the door with a wave. Ino lingered to give Sakura a gentle hug.

"If you ever want to talk," she said, searching Sakura's green eyes with her blue ones, "you tell me. Okay?"

"I will."

"I'm here for you. Forever. And for whatever–" Ino interrupted herself and pressed a finger to her lip "–well, except some things. Like if you're having bowel issues or something, I don't want to know that."

"I won't tell you about my hemorrhoids, then," said Sakura.

"…Are you serious?"

"No, oh my god, Ino."

"Okay, okay, good. But seriously, Forehead, you've been through so much shit… let us help you, okay?"

Her blue eyes were so full of concern and love it made Sakura hurt all over again.

"I will," said Sakura. "Now go away before you make me cry, I'm so sick of crying…"

"Ugh, my eyeliner… you are the _worst_ ," said Ino, blinking away tears as she left.

Sakura shut the door behind her and sighed. She knew that there was nothing that she could do to make this process easier: it was time that would heal all of this lingering hurt and trauma, that both she herself was enduring and that the people she loved were suffering through. Everyone had been shocked by her disappearance and ostensible death and it would take a while for that to lessen, and soften, and eventually disappear…

Supper that night consisted of a few fruit from one of the baskets. Sakura found that her appetite was almost nonexistent these days – possibly a lingering effect of Kabuto's drug, perhaps something else.

She chewed on a grape as she mulled over Ino's little parting speech. Ino was one of the best sensor-type ninja in Konoha, and on top of that, she'd known Sakura for a long, long time. Ino was therefore extremely – almost unfairly – perceptive when it came to her.

So it was very likely that she suspected that Sakura wasn't quite telling her everything. They had, of course, talked of her experience in Otogakure in a broad sense – Ino knew about the deal and its permutations, about Orochimaru, Sasuke and Kabuto, about the various events that had marked Sakura's stay.

But Sakura had downplayed one major element and done so quite deliberately: Kimimaro. She had mentioned him in passing, and only in vague terms – he was just the guy she had to heal for Orochimaru, he was the next vessel, nothing more. The truth was that he was _so much more_ , and Sakura didn't have a damn clue how to deal with it. What was she supposed to say? That it turned out that, okay maybe he was a killer and a Sound nin, but he was actually a sweetheart and a total cutie pie, and he _totally_ liked her, and she'd made out with him five minutes before she left the Sound and wasn't sure whether or not she regretted it…

No. She wouldn't be doing herself any favours, disclosing that information to Ino. And it wouldn't be fair to Ino to burden her with that kind of secret. This was something that she would have to keep to herself and deal with herself; it would be lonely, and difficult, but it would be the best for everyone.

VVV

That night, and in nights to come, Sakura began to understand just how much of an impact her stay in Sound had had on her. Her sleeps were not restful. She found herself waking up at 7:00 a.m. sharp every day, rain or shine, no matter how late she'd stayed up the night before. Every morning when she opened her eyes, she was surprised anew to see a plain white ceiling above her, expecting instead Otogakure's carved woodwork and that dingy single light bulb, and adrenaline and relief washed through her every time she realized that she was _home_.

The idea that she could, once again, go where she wanted, when she wanted, took her some getting used to – she didn't need to ask for permission, she could go anywhere in Konoha… trailed, of course, by ANBU in the shadows. She thought that they would grate on her, those ANBU tails, but they were impeccably professional, never speaking to her or interfering in her daily life other than making other shinobi nervous when they sensed their presence.

It was in some ways a comforting thing to know that she was never really alone.

Some nights, when the village was asleep and her ANBU shadows were at their posts on the rooftops and her apartment was quiet and empty, Sakura found herself staring at the wall beside her bed and imagining that a long shadow falling across it was actually the door to the ward, and that she could feel a certain quiet presence on the other side.

The frequency with which she drifted into these reveries concerned her: her abduction was over, her ordeal was over, and everything about it should be over too – so why, in unguarded moments, did she have secret longings for a man that she would never see again…

Though it wasn't something that she never explicitly acknowledged to herself, Sakura suspected that she might have left a little piece of her heart in Otogakure. (Not her whole heart, though, never that – she had made that mistake once in her life and wouldn't be making it again.)

She wondered if he thought of her as often as she thought of him.

VVV

Once she was officially discharged from the hospital, Sakura found herself summoned before various authorities in Konoha to tell her story. The Konoha Intelligence Division kept her in their uncomfortable chairs for long hours, making her recount everything down to the tiniest detail in the hopes that something could help them pinpoint the location of the Sound base – the taste of the water; the colour of the dust in the courtyard; the temperature when she arrived and when she left; did the toilet flush one way or the other; they even made her draw the shapes of the trees and describe in the jutsus that she'd vaguely felt pulsing in the wall.

Then she was summoned before Konoha's Council to talk about her experience. They were fixated on Sasuke more than anything else and made her relate her encounters with him blow-by-blow as the Council scribe worked furiously to capture all of the details.

These sessions with the Council were long and exhausting. On the fifth day of back-to-back audiences with them, Sakura could see Tsunade growing grouchier and more tired by the hour.

Sakura was seated where the two arms of the semicircular Council table met. Directly across from her was Tsunade, flanked by two Councilmen on her left and two Councilwomen on her right, all very old and so interchangeable to Sakura that it took her about six hours of grilling to learn their names: Councilman Mitokado, voluble, loud; Councilman Hageru, bald and so ancient that he might've been alive when the Leaf was founded; Councilwoman Furui, thin and frail and probably suffering from osteoporosis; and Councilwoman Utatane, opinionated and whip-sharp.

"It just infuriates me," said Councilman Mitokado. "15 years ago, we lost one of our biggest and most powerful clans to a senseless slaughter. But we had one left – Sasuke Uchiha, a child, in those days, but we knew that with him we could eventually rebuild…"

He shook his head. "Eight years ago, that child left, and the Leaf lost the Sharingan entirely–"

"–Well, not entirely. We still have Kakashi Hatake's left eye," pointed out the sardonic Councilwoman Utatane.

"–That will die with him," said Mitokado. "You know, I could swallow the Leaf losing the Sharingan much more easily if it wasn't going to be used by Orochimaru – and most definitely used _against us_. We _must_ get the Uchiha boy back."

"Intel is working on it as we speak, with the new information given to us by Sakura," said Tsunade.

"Ms. Haruno," said Councilwoman Furui, bobbing her white head in Sakura's direction. "This is our fifth session with you, so you will forgive me if some of the details have grown blurry… you said that Orochimaru may still use Sasuke as his next vessel?"

"That is correct," said Sakura. "He said there was a chance."

"Orochimaru in an Uchiha body would be a dangerous combination for us," said Hageru in his trembling voice. "I don't like it…"

Sakura raised her hand and was granted permission to speak by Tsunade's nod.

"I should add that I don't believe that Orochimaru's assessment is necessarily accurate," said Sakura.

"How so, child?"

Sakura blinked at Hageru, because she was 21 and most certainly not a child, but then again, he was like 150, so maybe she'd just let that one slide.

"He said there was a chance, but I don't think it's a big one. I've mentioned to you that Sasuke is Orochimaru's plan B. I was able to learn a lot about his plan A – Kimimaro Kaguya – as I was healing him. I believe that the chances that he uses Ki–the Kaguya are much higher. He will take his body unless he has a very good reason not to."

"You believe that Orochimaru would choose this other bloodline over the Sharingan's power?" asked Hageru.

"Yes," said Sakura. "Absolutely."

"Why?"

"He went to significant trouble to keep the Kaguya alive," said Sakura. "Even when he had Sasuke at his beck and call over the last eight years. The Sharingan is a powerful trait, but it doesn't offer what the Shikotsumyaku does – automatic self-healing and a virtual immunity to physical attacks through regeneration and bone armour. Those things, coupled with Orochimaru's ninjutsu and genjustu, would make him almost immortal. And I'm not even making mention of the weapons and the taijutsu that come with the Shikotsumyaku…"

Councilwoman Utatane steepled her fingers and studied Sakura with her steely-grey eyes. "You meant to comfort us, Haruno, in sharing this information and suggesting that Sasuke may not be in as much danger as we thought. But I now find myself even more worried at this quasi-certainty that Orochimaru will take this Kaguya as a vessel, with those bloodline traits… then he will most _definitely_ be a threat."

"Perhaps Tsunade is right," said Councilwoman Furui in her soft old-lady voice. "Perhaps we ought to eradicate the Sound before Orochimaru has the chance to power himself up in this way, with either of these vessels."

Tsunade sat up; the prospect of war made her actually alert for the first time that afternoon.

Meanwhile, a rumble of disapproval from the other councillors resonated throughout the room:

"We have no idea where he is–"

"Absolutely not. This village has had enough war."

"How many lives will we lose to Orochimaru, he hasn't actually _attacked_ us, you know…"

"It's too soon."

"We must save the Uchiha boy first, and then perhaps consider–"

Tsunade propped her chin into her hand and gave Sakura a blank stare. Her jaw was clenched, which never boded well.

Sakura pointed to her watch and mouthed, "Shift in the ER in fifteen."

Tsunade gestured Sakura out and stared at her balefully as she went. Sakura understood the unspoken words there; Tsunade would much rather be wrist-deep in someone's guts fixing some nasty injury than enduring these circular discussions…

Sakura gave Tsunade an apologetic look before closing the door behind her.

She'd only taken a few steps into the hall when someone called out her name. Sakura turned to find Shizune trotting towards her, looking harried and struggling to keep hold of an enormous stack of files.

"How bad was it today?" asked Shizune as she caught her breath. "Do I need to have tea waiting for Tsunade, or sake?"

"Definitely sake," said Sakura with a grimace. "Someone raised her war proposal and they're butchering it all over again. Sorry – I know that's not what you want to hear…"

"Damn it," said Shizune. "She's going to be in a foul mood when she gets out of there and I have to get her to approve these budgetary requests for re-plumbing the public toilets. She's been putting it off for weeks and her backlog of paperwork has created a literal backlog…"

"Don't tell me," said Sakura.

"Sewage," said Shizune. "Yes. So much poop…"

"Whatever they pay you, it's not enough," said Sakura as she hurried to the exit.

VVV


	14. Chapter 14

Autumn came and went among golden days and softly falling leaves, and then came winter, and spring, and summer, and autumn again. A year and a half after her return to the Leaf, Sakura had fallen back into a routine that approached normalcy: she resumed her full shift load at the Konoha General, restarted her regular training with other shinobi, and returned to her busy social life.

Sakura's second winter home brought with it unseasonably cold weather for the Country of Fire; snow and an exciting series of ice-related accidents that kept her occupied at the hospital. Councilwoman Furui came in one night with a broken hip and confirmed that she did have osteoporosis; Sakura was assigned to her case and, in the process, she learned that she was a very kind woman, and that she was good friends with Utatane, who was less kind and more snarky.

Konoha's renewed searches for the Otogakure base and Sasuke were unsuccessful. Kabuto had been wise in knocking Sakura out before removing her from the compound; she had very little to give anyone in terms of useful information as to the base's location. Orochimaru's skills in masking the place flummoxed Konoha's best for months, to the point where the very mention of the Sound could set a certain subset of tracker expert shinobi snarling in rage – Kiba, Neji, Shino, even mild-mannered Hinata's veins bulged at the word, and not because of the Byakugan. As for Kakashi and his tracker dogs, they took the failures as a personal offense; their returns from failed expeditions were marked by lengthy sulks.

Over that year and a half, gradually, everyone stopped looking at Sakura like she was a ghost, or otherwise with pity (which was, to her, even worse).

And gradually she stopped waking up expecting to hear Kabuto's footsteps bringing her breakfast. Gradually she lost the habit of pausing at the threshold of her front door before daring to set foot outside of her apartment without asking for permission to leave her quarters. Gradually she started to actually turn lights off at night. She was glad see the end of those little habits and fears that had wormed their way into her and took so long to fade away.

What she did miss, though, were soft touches, quiet words, gentle moments, and conversations that were as slow as they were sincere. She missed a calm presence and quiet self-confidence and that mutual longing (half-hidden and mostly unacknowledged) – she missed green eyes full of unspoken things.

As weeks became months and months became years, even those memories faded to the point that Sakura could revisit them without feeling her heart wrench. This she considered to be by and large a positive development: it meant that the dangerous swell of emotions that she felt for Kimimaro – which veered beyond affection and too close to something more powerful – had ebbed.

Sakura's idiot heart had caused her many years of hurt before; if there was one thing she would take away from that experience, it was that she would not be making the mistake called love again.

And so, instead, those memories of Kimimaro became a lovely sort of daydream that Sakura would lose herself in sometimes – sometimes in the middle of dates with very nice men that Ino set her up with (that was, admittedly, pretty bad, and she scolded herself for it).

And then there was that one time when she was picking up something in a hospital storeroom – extra syringes, maybe – and a box of soaps happened to be open right next to some antiseptic solution, and the combination of smells was _him_. And Sakura found herself standing still, with her eyes closed, and imagining that he was right there – until a nurse poked her head in and asked if she was alright, and Sakura shook her head and said, yes, yes, of course, she was fine…

Ino knew. She didn't know _what_ , exactly, but she knew that there was something that Sakura was keeping to herself. They tiptoed around it in careful circles that slowly became smaller and smaller. Ino was patient, and kind enough to not pry too much, and smart enough not to use her ninjutsu to find out – possibly because she was aware that her pretty nose would not have survived unscathed, had she tried.

VVV

It was January. In the indoor training arena, Sakura was saying goodbye to a group of kunoichi in varying degrees of undress and sweatiness.

"I've gotta hit the showers – I'm meeting Tsunade at six," said Sakura.

"See you," waved Tenten from amidst a pile of unfurled scrolls. "I _will_ find you a weapon that you like more than your fists one day."

"Nah, look at these beauties," said Sakura holding up the fists in question. "Unbeatable, Tenten… sorry!"

"But you'd look so _badass_ with a katana," pressed Tenten as Sakura walked away. "And think of the _precision_ …"

"She's right, you know," said Ino, catching up with Sakura. "It _would_ be pretty badass."

"Nah. I'm a brawler, I'd just break it," said Sakura, pulling off her sweat-soaked gloves as she made for the change rooms. "Are you heading out too?"

"I might also be meeting someone at six," said Ino.

There was an evasiveness in her tone that made Sakura look at her curiously.

"Someone? Who?"

Ino didn't answer, pausing instead to snatch the front of Sakura's shirt and wipe her sweaty face with it.

"Ew," said Ino, "that was really soggy."

Sakura snickered. "Good. Jerk. Now stop avoiding my question."

"Mm… _no,_ " said Ino.

"What happened with you and Sai, anyway? You guys were pretty serious, I thought – well, pretty serious for you, anyway, you were with him for like a whole three months…"

"Ugh, that one," said Ino as they made their way to the changing rooms. "I ended it."

"Why?"

Ino gave Sakura a look. "You're going to judge me."

"I _always_ judge you," said Sakura, wrapping her arm around Ino's waist. "Continue."

Ino smiled in a pretty half-ashamed kind of way. "Okay. If you _must_ know, I couldn't stand to be with a guy who could almost pull off crop tops better than I can. Happy?"

Sakura laughed. "That's hilarious. And you're a terrible person."

"Whatever," said Ino. "I released him back into the wild, he'll find someone else… lots of girls like that emo artist thing…"

They grabbed their towels and hair stuff and made their way to the showers. (Well, Sakura grabbed hair _stuff_ , Ino grabbed sufficient bottles, tubs and containers for her armload to be called a supply, or perhaps, an inventory.)

"Why do you ask, anyway?" asked Ino. "You interested?"

"In Sai? Nah."

"Oh," said Ino, watching her carefully. "I thought he might be your type, you know – the whole dark and broody thing."

Sakura shrugged. (Of course, Ino couldn't know that Sakura's type might have changed. And that perhaps her new type ran more towards the pale and the light-haired and the forbidden…)

"We'll find you someone," said Ino. "I think your old sensei is getting more action than you are these days."

"Ugh, no more of those rumours," said Sakura. "I work with Shizune on a daily basis. I don't want to think about–"

"–Oh yes, think about it," interrupted Ino, wiggling her eyebrows. "They probably do it on Tsunade's desk when she's not there."

"Ew. Gah. _Why._ "

Ino cackled to herself. "Don't forget to look for clues when you see Tsunade tonight. Like _goopy spots_."

"You are the worst."

"Seriously, though," said Ino. "Give me a name. You've gone through my list of usual suspects; I'm drawing a blank, here."

There was a name, maybe, but hell if Sakura was about to give it up. And it wasn't like Ino could do anything about it, anyway.

"I dunno, Ino," said Sakura. "I think I'm the issue, not them."

"…What?"

"Well – who's the common denominator in all these failed dates?"

Ino's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Sakura. Are you _kidding_ me right now? Have you _seen_ yourself?"

"But–"

"You're stunning. And – as if that wasn't enough – you're also _stupidly_ strong and _ridiculously_ intelligent. Dude – you got kidnapped by a genius evil sannin to fix a problem that he wasn't smart enough to fix himself. It doesn't get much better than you."

"Okay, okay…"

"That's right, _okay okay_. You're the one who's rejecting these poor babies! You're breaking so many hearts–"

The rest of Ino's words were drowned by Sakura turning on her shower and getting into the stall. Ino got her revenge by launching a glob of conditioner over the wall so that it splattered wetly on Sakura's head.

"That's for interrupting my lecture," called Ino, turning on her own shower. "Did I get you? I totally got you."

"Yes," said Sakura, wiping the stuff off. "And it smells amazing, what is it?"

"Unicorn jizz," said Ino.

VVV

Sakura couldn't help herself; she checked for clues about Kakashi and Shizune's escapades on Tsunade's desk when she met her mentor that evening.

"– so, anyway," said Tsunade, "I think we should move you over to surgery for the next little while and give Wakai and Midori some ER shifts; they need the experience. Are you still presenting that paper on poison extraction techniques at the FCM conference next month?"

Sakura's eyes were fixed on a stain in the red-brown grain of the desk.

"Sakura? For god's sake, what is so fascinating about that coffee ring today?"

"Sorry," said Sakura, blinking out of it and damning Ino. "Um – yes, that's fine for the surgery rotation."

"And the paper?"

"Yes, I'm presenting it – I actually put my final draft in your inbox, there, in case you have time to read it…"

"Ah," said Tsunade, eyeing the very corner of the paper that was sticking out from under a tower of other files. "As you can see, my inbox got out of hand again."

Tsunade dragged a beautifully-manicured fingertip down the interminable pile. "I think I'll have Shizune burn it all."

Sakura gave her a look.

"Except your paper, I suppose," said Tsunade with a smirk, pulling it out from the bottom of the pile and putting it on the very top. "It's probably the only thing worth reading in this stack of garbage…"

"Speaking of things I hate about my job," said Tsunade, pouring herself some tea. "The Council."

"What about them?"

"They're generally unhappy. Well – nothing new there. They're generally unhappy because they're counting down the months until Orochimaru takes his new body and we're still no closer to finding him or Sasuke."

"A year and seven months left," said Sakura.

"Yes," said Tsunade. "And as time goes on, they're doubly panicky because of what you told them about this Kimimaro Kaguya guy and what Orochimaru could look like in _his_ body."

Hearing that name still made Sakura's heart skip a beat, even after all this time. She stared at the desk and said nothing.

"The Council hasn't forgotten how far the Sound got with that invasion attempt eight years ago. It frightens them. They saw Orochimaru kill the Third – a living legend – and he wasn't in a body that was any kind of special at that point."

"Mm."

"I don't like it either," said Tsunade, swirling her tea around in its cup. "Because he _will_ have a body that's all kinds of special the next time he lines up an attack. If not the Sharingan, then this Kaguya kid…"

Sakura nodded.

"What was he like, anyway? Aside from this fabulous bloodline limit of his…"

The question was unexpected. Sakura glanced up but Tsunade's look was merely curious, marred with a slightly worried frown. Still – it was such a simple question, and yet Sakura's answer could complicate matters tremendously, if she wasn't careful…

"Well – not a kid, for starters," said Sakura. "He's 24, or maybe 25 now."

"Right," said Tsunade. "Ancient."

"He was your typical Orochimaru drone – at least at first. Brainwashed from a young age and so emotionally manipulated that it actually made me sick sometimes. He worshipped the ground that Orochimaru walked on and wanted nothing more than to serve him…"

"Sounds about right," said Tsunade with a grim look.

"Giving up his body to Orochimaru was basically the only goal in his life. It's what drove him so hard to fight through that illness. But then…"

Sakura trailed off uncertainly.

"Then what?"

"I spent months pulling him back from the edge of death. I kind of got to know him – as you do."

"As you do," repeated Tsunade.

Sakura stared at the ceiling, trying to condense those six months of gradually learning what Kimimaro was into something concise that didn't give too much of her own personal complications away.

"I found that he was – damaged, and brainwashed, and broken in a hundred different ways. But somehow, in spite of all that, in spite of this awful life he'd led… he was kind."

" _Kind?_ "

"I know," said Sakura. "It's weird. I've never met a more gentle person, actually."

Tsunade's eyebrows were somewhere in her hairline. "…I see."

"And that was when he still had the seal, which eats away at the good things – like I found out with Sasuke – and makes Orochimaru's will kind of take over the recipient's, you know? After the seal was removed, I noticed that he was much less obsessed with Orochimaru."

Sakura looked at her hands. "It kind of sucked, honestly, to see a guy like that, with a nature that was obviously good… and wonder what he could've been, in a different life."

Silence fell. Tsunade stared at nothing for a while before blinking and shaking her head.

"My god, Sakura. I wanted an objective personality assessment, not a depressing bedtime story."

"Sorry," said Sakura.

Tsunade looked into her teacup with thoughtful hazel eyes. Sakura knew that, despite her brusque demeanor, there were few with a fount of empathy that ran as deep as her mentor's.

"So Orochimaru's found himself a good boy gone bad and a bad boy gone good," said Tsunade. "And he'll have a grand old time choosing whichever one suits his purposes better in a year and a half."

"Pretty much."

"If I could get my hands on that snake," said Tsunade. The teacup between her fingers quivered but the porcelain held.

"I don't dole out deaths lightly," continued Tsunade. "But with _him_ …"

"I agree with you," said Sakura. "I'd have done it too, if I thought I'd have a fighting chance."

"No," said Tsunade. "You were smart not to engage him. My last round with him, he didn't have his arms, and we still stalemated."

"If we could get at him _together_ ," said Sakura, staring pensively at the ceiling.

"Oh, yes, _together_ ," said Tsunade, a sudden bloodthirsty light brightening her eyes.

"Can you imagine? We could–"

A sharp knock interrupted their increasingly murderous musings.

"Urgent news, Lady Tsunade," called a voice on the other side of the door.

"Enter."

Shizune came in, followed by a petite woman that Sakura recognized as one of the Hokage's decryption specialists.

"Shizune. Himitsu. What is it?" asked Tsunade.

"Hawk from Hinata Hyuuga's squad," said Shizune, holding up a tiny capsule. "I brought Himitsu along so we wouldn't waste time decoding it."

"A hawk? They must've found something. Sit, Himitsu. How long will this take?"

"Not long, Lady Tsunade," said Himitsu with a deferential bow. "This code is familiar to me."

Himitsu sat in the free seat next to Sakura and pulled out a long and complicated looking chart. She spent a few moments going back and forth between it and the tiny scroll that was in Shizune's capsule.

Silence fell as she worked. Tsunade leaned towards her and stared at her fiercely, Sakura lost herself in watching the woman's swift fingers connect symbols to their equivalents, and Shizune stood at the door, holding her perennial stack of files tightly to her chest.

"May I read this aloud as I go?" asked Himitsu. "In the present company?"

"Please," said Tsunade, leaning forward even more, " _do_."

Himitsu nodded. After a moment, she began to read in a halting voice: " _Base… found_. _East… of Whirlpool._ "

Tsunade and Sakura exchanged looks. As Himitsu worked on the rest of the message, a second silence fell, much more tense than the first.

" _Extensive… fire… damage_ ," read Himitsu.

Sakura's eyes were riveted to the cryptographer's face, trying to read into her expressions as she decoded. A frown was marring the woman's features now.

" _Twenty-three…"_ read Himitsu. She frowned, then sat back. "No, that cannot be right."

"Twenty-three what?" asked Tsunade.

Himitsu shook her head and re-checked her chart. "No. I was right. It _is_ twenty-three. Oh, this is awful…"

"Twenty-three _what_ , Himitsu?"

" _Twenty-three…_ _bodies found at last count,_ " read Himitsu, visibly pale now.

Tsunade's hands were gripping the edge of her desk. " _What?_ "

Sakura placed a calming hand on Tsunade's arm. "Let's let her finish."

" _None… persons… of… interest_ ," read Himitsu in that maddeningly slow way.

None persons of interest. Sakura sat back with a sigh of mingled disappointment (because Orochimaru's corpse wasn't among those found) and relief (because nor were Sasuke's or Kimimaro's).

" _Awaiting your instructions_ ," finished Himitsu.

Silence fell again as the four women processed the import of this message.

It was Sakura who broke the silence. "Twenty-three people."

"It looks to me like we've just confirmed that the rumours were true," said Tsunade. "The Sound has been conducting experiments on human subjects."

"Or Orochimaru was keeping himself a full stable of potential vessels," suggested Shizune.

"They must've had a whole underground system where they were keeping these poor people captive," said Sakura in a hushed voice. "I only ever saw four Sound nin. Orochimaru, Kabuto, Sasuke, and Kimimaro."

"We know that there was at least one other guy that you never saw – the one he took as his vessel."

"True," said Sakura. She bit her lip. "God. I don't even want to know what conditions these people were kept in…"

"Their suffering must have been…" began Himitsu, and then she trailed off with tear-filled eyes. Sakura, suddenly remembering that the woman was the only civilian in the room and probably the one least accustomed to the macabre realities of shinobi life, reached over to squeeze her hand.

"Ugh. Burned to death," said Shizune. "This makes me sick."

"That fire can't have been intentional, I think," said Sakura, shaking her head. "Those people would've been valued by Orochimaru and Kabuto, in their own horrible way."

"Do you think – Fire Release? Sasuke?"

"It's very possible," said Sakura, remembering those awful moments when he had unleashed that technique in her very room – that had been a simple Fireball Release. Presumably, all of these years of hate-fueled training later, he was capable of much more… from memory she knew that there existed higher levels of the Fire Release; Great Fire Destruction, Great Fire Whirlwind, Great Fire Annihilation…

"Hinata and her squad will be able to give us more information when they get back," said Tsunade. "She might be able to tell from the ruins whether or not this fire stemmed from natural causes."

"Would you like me to prepare a message, Lady Tsunade?" asked Himitsu.

"Yes. Tell her that I want her to determine the cause of the fire if possible. And as for the bodies – for those that can be identified, inform the next of kin. For the ones that are beyond recognition… have them buried at the site. I want a marker installed there."

Himitsu bowed her head. Tsunade turned to Shizune. "Reschedule tomorrow morning's black ops debrief for later. I need to meet the Council about this latest development. See that the members make themselves available."

"Right away," said Shizune.

She and Himitsu exited the Hokage's office, leaving Sakura alone with a very angry Tsunade.

"That man," said Tsunade, resting her forehead against her closed fists. "But we're one step closer. They're on the run now, looking for a new hole to hide in, like the rats they are…"

"They were already looking into new accommodations for the Sound when I was close to leaving," said Sakura. "They might have had a bolt hole line up already."

Tsunade's nostrils flared and so Sakura decided not to pursue that line of thought further just now.

"If it _was_ Sasuke who burned the place down," said Sakura, "I wonder what triggered it."

Tsunade shrugged. "You said it sounded like Kabuto was keeping him sedated. Maybe he misjudged the dosage – I have some doubts as to his competence on that front."

"Maybe," said Sakura.

Privately she hoped that it wasn't another skirmish between Sasuke and Kimimaro that had caused such a spectacular, and literal, meltdown.

"I'll have Hinata report to me as soon as her team comes in. In the meantime, at least we have _some_ movement on this godforsaken file…"

"The Council will be glad to hear it," said Sakura.

"They'd better be," said Tsunade with a stormy look in the general direction of the Council chamber.

VVV


	15. Chapter 15

Hinata and her squadron returned to Konoha with enough information for Sakura to confirm that they had indeed found the Sound base. They determined that the fire that had razed Otogakure did not spring from natural causes; it was almost certainly a Fire Release of some sort, or a similar jutsu.

Of the bodies that were found, approximately five belonged to Sound shinobi and the rest were civilians, including, to the general horror of everyone who learned this news, children. All of the corpses had been badly burned by the fire but enough remained that it was clear that they had been the subject of gruesome experiments.

Over two-thirds of the bodies found were unidentifiable and their remains could therefore not be repatriated. Instead, they were buried at the site.

For lack of anything else to do for them, Tsunade had a simple marker installed at the place in memory of those who lost their lives.

VVV

Late February brought with it a continuation of the unseasonably cold weather that the Country of Fire was enduring. On this particular Friday evening, Sakura had to stare long and hard at the fatly bundled-up figure that was standing at her front door to figure out who it was.

"Ino…?" she asked after a moment of hesitation.

"Of course it's me," said Ino, bustling past her.

Sakura watched Ino stomp her way in and resisted the urge to ask her whether or not she realized that these poofy outer layers made her look like a short fat man; she wasn't sure that their friendship would survive such an observation.

Instead, she asked, "Aren't you a tad overdressed?"

"It's like a billion below zero and there's going to be a massive snowstorm tonight," said Ino as she peeled off her layers. "No."

"Okay, okay. You're kinda early for bad movie night, though," said Sakura, collapsing onto the sofa in her tank and PJ bottoms. "I just got home and changed."

Ino, now rid of most of her outerwear, looked up at Sakura slightly guiltily. "Yeah, about that…"

"What?"

"I came early so I could hang out with you a bit, because, um… I can't stay tonight."

"What?! You're missing bad movie night?"

"Yes," said Ino. "I didn't want to be a jerk and ditch you completely, so…"

"But everyone's coming tonight," said Sakura. "I have _Shark Attack 3: Megalodon_!"

"Sorry, I can't," said Ino, casting around as though seeking some kind of distraction. Her gaze settled on the kitchen. "Hey. I feel like a smoothie. Do you want a smoothie?"

"No, I don't want a smoothie," said Sakura. "I want to know why you're bailing."

Ino rummaged around in the kitchen and ignored her. Sakura hoisted herself into a seated position and scanned her critically.

"You're all dressed up. You're totally bailing on me because you have a date."

"A date? Pff. This is my casual wear," said Ino, looking down at her little black dress, tights, and perilously high booties.

"Liar," said Sakura, narrowing her eyes. "You're going out with your mystery man again."

Ino stuck her head in the fridge. "No. Hey, do you have any kale?"

"Stop redirecting me, Ino, you know it doesn't work."

"Ew. You have like, way too much cottage cheese for a normal person."

"Ino."

"I'll just use spinach instead of kale."

" _Ino_."

Ino finally pulled her head out of the fridge. " _What._ "

"Tell me who it is."

Ino busied herself with slopping ingredients into Sakura's blender and pretended not to have heard her.

"Hey," pressed Sakura. "You weaseled out of telling me last time. Tell me."

"I'm not going to," said Ino lightly. "You wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Try me," said Sakura.

"No."

"Come on. Just a hint–"

Ino chose this moment to turn on the blender and drown out Sakura's voice entirely.

Sakura sat up and put her elbows on the back of the couch so that she could glare at Ino properly.

"You are _so_ lame," said Sakura when the blender had ceased.

"Fine," said Ino, pouring out a very gooey green smoothie. "I'll tell you. On one condition."

"What?"

"You have to tell me what weird-ass secret you're keeping from me since you got back," said Ino.

Sakura grew serious, because Ino didn't really know what she was asking her to do. Because she wasn't ready, and probably never would be ready, to admit that over the course of a half-year abduction she had developed some as-yet-unspecified _feelings_ for an enemy shinobi, and that she still hadn't quite gotten over those feelings…

"I can't," said Sakura.

Ino perched herself beside her on the sofa and sipped at her smoothie. "Well, at least you're admitting that there's something. That's new."

Sakura stared at the Team 7 photo on her coffee table and said nothing.

"Listen," said Ino, "I know it must be something heavy, just from the way you've been carrying it. I can feel it, you know."

"I know you can," said Sakura. "Creep."

"Creep is offensive, we say _hyper-intuitive genius_ now."

"Well, go hyper-intuit somewhere else," said Sakura crankily. "I'm not ready to talk about it."

"I won't push you, you know that," said Ino. "But you've been back for a long time…"

She saw that Sakura had sunk into moody silence.

"Hey. My secret isn't as serious as yours," said Ino. "I'll tell you if it stops you from getting pouty."

Sakura brightened up immediately. "Done. Tell me."

"Um. That was way too easy."

" _Too late_ ," said Sakura. "Tell me."

Ino studied her smoothie. She straightened up and seemed to be gathering up her courage – and then her shoulders slumped.

"…Oh god. I can't say it."

"Why? Who is it?"

"Promise you won't tell _anyone_ ," said Ino. "We aren't even dating, it's super casual…"

" _Yesokayofcourse_ ," said Sakura, "who is it?"

"Ugh."

"Tell me."

"God, I can't," said Ino. "You'll never let me live it down."

" _Tell me_."

"Okay, okay," said Ino.

Sakura gave her a moment, but still nothing was forthcoming.

"So?" she prompted.

Ino swallowed. "It's… Kiba."

Sakura almost choked. " _What?_ "

"I know. Dogboy. I know," said Ino, staring at the ceiling as though she had just declared herself terminally ill.

"Are you serious, Ino?"

"Yes."

"Oh my god. Dogboy. I _distinctly_ remember you telling me you'd rather go out with his dog than him."

"I know," said Ino.

"He used to piss you off so much."

"He still does."

"Wow, Ino."

"Shush."

Sakura stared at Ino in open-mouthed silence. Then she cuddled up to her ingratiatingly.

"So… tell me everything. How did this happen?"

"I don't know. He grew on me. Shut up. And also. His sister's dog had puppies."

"Puppies? And you've never invited me to play with them? You're a horrible friend."

"I shan't share them," said Ino. "They're all mine."

"Kiba, though," said Sakura.

"I know."

"You're so – _sophisticated_ ," said Sakura, eyeing Ino's impeccable dress and running a fingertip through her perfectly-done hair. "And high maintenance. And a neat freak. And _picky_."

"I know."

"And he's so rough around the edges and… _outdoorsy_. You _hate_ the outdoors."

"I know."

"But it's _Kiba_ –"

"Shh," said Ino, holding her fingertips to Sakura's lips. "I know, you beautiful repetitive creature, I know–"

Sakura's front door burst open at that moment and Naruto waltzed in followed by Shino, Shikamaru and Choji.

Naruto was making some loud complaint or other about how someone had eaten half the nachos on the way over. Then he froze, and the three men behind him froze, taking in Sakura in her tank and PJ bottoms cuddled up to Ino with a leg thrown casually over her lap and Ino's blonde hair wrapped around her fingers, and Ino's fingertips pressed to Sakura's mouth and her dress hiking up scandalously high over her tights.

"Hello," said Sakura and Ino.

"Hello," said the boys.

There was a beat of silence.

"Um. Your noses are all bleeding," pointed out Sakura.

"Yeah," said Ino as she planted a goodbye kiss into the middle of Sakura's forehead. "At least be considerate and stand on the tile."

VVV

Bad movies were watched, laughs were had, and truly terrible amounts of candy and booze were ingested – except for Lee, who expressed the opinion that his body was a temple and that he would prefer to eat these cucumber slices and almonds that he had brought along. (He was vexed when no-one took him up on his offer to share.)

After midnight, Sakura's apartment emptied as her friends stumbled and weaved out in various states of tipsiness. When the last stragglers left – Naruto leaning heavily on Hinata and tearfully informing her that he loved the whole world – Sakura found herself too wound up to go to bed.

She spent an hour tidying up the worst of the mess, pausing occasionally at the window to watch a distant bank of clouds roll in. Ino hadn't exaggerated; there would be another snow dump that night.

Three a.m. found Sakura in bed, though she dozed only lightly. When she awoke for absolutely no reason for the sixth time that hour, she reflected that, though she was feeling those two glasses of wine she'd had, perhaps she should have accepted that third one from Naruto; at least she would probably be asleep by now and not filled with this strange feverish feeling…

She flipped over to face the glass doors that gave onto her balcony. It was an unusually bright night – perhaps that was the source of her troubles. Pulling herself from her warm bed with a grumble, Sakura got up to pull the curtains shut.

However, as she reached the window, the scene before her gave her pause: the night was a beautiful one, tranquil and breathtakingly luminous. The familiar outlines of Konoha's quaint buildings were softened by yesterday's snowfall; starlight seemed to kiss every surface and then glimmer away in small bursts of shine.

The wind picked up and the clouds that Sakura had noticed earlier rolled up in earnest now, heavy with the promise of snow.

As she glanced up to follow their journey across the sky, movement along the roof across the street caught her eye. She expected to see the black silhouette of an ANBU operative as her guards switched shifts – but this was a night of white, white snow and white cloud and the white fire of the stars, and so too was this figure, which moved across the rooftop with an uncanny grace.

The unexpected sight riveted Sakura's attention: her ANBU were nowhere to be seen and this person's movements were so purposeful and elegant and distantly familiar…

The figure slowed, skylined against the clouds, and finally came to a halt as though gradually becoming aware that it was being watched. She could see that it was a man, now, a man with hair so white and skin so pale that he seemed an inextricable part of the bright silent world around him.

She recognized him with a start that sent her pulse thrumming away in her veins, her heart, her throat. It couldn't be him – it couldn't be. And yet – the way he carried himself, the tilt of his head, the set of his shoulders, that bone-white hair…

Her lips parted in mingled wonder and disbelief and she raised her fingertips to the cold glass. The movement attracted his attention and then his gaze was on her: her pale face in the dark window, the whiteness of her negligee, her uncertain hand against the window-pane.

She watched him freeze for a moment then tumble down the rooftop with that preternatural agility, now visible, now vanishing in half-light. With each blink of hers he came closer, vaulting down balconies and ledges with such lightness that the snow piled upon them was barely disturbed.

Then he was on the balcony across from hers, and then he made the leap between them, easily, and then he was perched on her balustrade, and he looked up at her.

And there was his pale face, and there were the red Kaguya markings adorning his forehead and intensifying his eyes, and there were the hands that had touched her a thousand gentle times, and the lips that she had kissed so long ago but never forgotten.

It was him.

Sakura stared through the glass and did not believe what she was seeing – she had had too much wine, or perhaps she was still asleep, and this was a strange and magical dream from which she would soon awaken.

And yet – and yet he was so exactly how she remembered him, not abstracted by dream or memory…

Her fingers – trembling now – found the latch. She slid open the door.

The air tasted of cold and starlight as, far above them, the snow-laden clouds sighed and released their burden in great feathery flakes.

VVV


	16. Chapter 16

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment – long enough for snowflakes to cling to him where he crouched on her balustrade and for little droplets of snowmelt to form along her bare shoulders.

His gaze was unadulterated yearning; it roved from her parted lips to her bright eyes to her hair tumbling down over her shoulder, rebelliously springtime-pink though it was the dead of winter.

And she looked back at him and knew that this couldn't be real. The world was too soft and hushed and dazzling; she couldn't feel the frosty air biting her bare skin; there was a man perched on her balcony who could not possibly be there. This wasn't real.

"I'm dreaming," said Sakura.

Her words and the warm push of her breath clouded the cold air for a moment and dissipated just as quickly.

"I hope it is a good dream," said Kimimaro.

"It is," said Sakura, and it truly was, because seeing him, and hearing his voice again, gave her a thrill of excitement – a feeling beyond the mere contentment that marked her daily life: a feeling of _happiness_.

This answer of hers seemed to erase the hesitation that had kept him perched at arm's length. He climbed down from the balustrade and two strides brought him to her side.

He was drinking her in like a creature enraptured; her mouth, her eyes, her hair, her collarbone where melted snowflakes shined; he could not quite take in enough of her.

"I did not think it would be possible," he said. "And yet…"

She looked up at him in dazed silence, feeling equal parts light-headed and mystified.

He took a step closer. "And yet. You are more beautiful than I remember."

She felt her cheeks warm. A shy smile made its way across her lips and she wanted to tell him, 'likewise' – because the passage of time had erased from her memories quite how breathtaking he was in person – but she did not quite have the courage.

"I…" he began, and then his words faltered. His breaths blew out in plumes of white as he stood there, lost momentarily somewhere in the place between enchanted and in love.

As in the old days, his hands picked up where his words trailed off. He reached for her. His touch was welcome, at first, because it was so beautifully familiar and it filled her with longing.

But then – then the feel of his palm against her forearm was real. His hair brushing against her skin as he leaned into her like a spellbound thing, that was real. And so too were the snowflakes slowly melting into his white-clad shoulders, and the tired lines under his red-rimmed eyes, and his pale lips, and the cold hands that clasped hers.

Sakura blinked and the haze of sleep and wine and snow-magic lifted.

This was actually happening right now.

Kimimaro was in Konoha right now, was on her balcony right now, at four in the morning, in the dead of winter, and she was under constant ANBU surveillance…

She jolted away from him. "Kimimaro – oh my god."

He looked a question at her, though his interest clearly lay far more in their interlacing fingers.

Sakura pulled her hands away with a sense of rapidly-increasing urgency. Her eyes raked the rooftops. "I'm under ANBU watch at all times, they'll see you–"

"Oh," said Kimimaro, glancing upwards. "Yes. There were some men."

"What do you mean, there _were_?" said Sakura. "You didn't kill them – please tell me you didn't kill them…"

Kimimaro gave a disinterested kind of shrug and turned his attention back to her. "No. But. They will be unconscious for some time."

"Unconscious…?" repeated Sakura.

The spell was truly broken now. A hundred questions bubbled up at once in Sakura's throat. She grabbed Kimimaro by the wrists and pulled him indoors.

"Oh my god. You took down three black ops–? How did you even do that without making a sound? Where did you come from? And what the hell are you doing here anyway? Are you _crazy_? You're a Sound ninja, this is Konoha, we're essentially at war…"

Kimimaro was much more engrossed in her hands on his wrists than in actually answering her.

"Kimimaro? Does Orochimaru know you're here? Holy crap. Why did you leave him…?"

He did not answer, too preoccupied now with tracing his thumbs along the thin skin of her inner wrists as though it was the most riveting thing that he had ever seen in his life.

Sakura pulled her hands away; evidently they were too distracting right now. " _Kimimaro_."

He blinked and looked up like one wrenched out of a daydream and then sighed a frustrated little sigh, as though she was the one who had her priorities in the wrong order, here. But when their eyes met, he saw enough worry in hers that he decided to oblige her. He dropped his seeking hands to his side.

"How did you even _find_ me?" asked Sakura.

She was certain that he had drifted back into inattention when his gaze wandered her bedroom – until he caught sight of her messy dresser with all of its feminine paraphernalia and made his way to it purposefully.

"This," he said.

Sakura approached to see what he was pointing at. There amidst her brushes and her flat iron and her hair pins lay a white thing glinting in the dark: the bone senbon from that lifetime ago when he had first shown her the Shikotsumyaku.

That thing had become such a part of her daily attire that she had almost forgotten where it came from. Her mouth opened and closed in a moment of disbelief.

"You can track your bones?"

"Yes."

"Since when?" asked Sakura, almost feeling offended that he had an ability that she did not know about.

"Since always."

"Really? How does that even work–?"

Sakura cut herself off with a shake of her head. This was _not_ the time. She would file this phenomenon away for further investigation later.

"Never mind that right now. That explains the _how_. But not the _why_ ," she said, turning back to Kimimaro. "Why are you here?"

Kimimaro reached out to touch the bone senbon as though completing some private rite. Then he turned to her and his impassive face looked a touch graver than usual.

"They locked the Uchiha up after you left," he said. "But. Some time ago, he escaped."

"Sasuke? Escaped? Where did he go?"

"I do not know," said Kimimaro. "However. When Orochimaru found out, he decided to give me the seal once more. He has grown strong enough to do so, to put some of his power in me again…"

Kimimaro's fingers pushed into his shirt, just below his collarbone. Sakura felt her heart sink – if he had been afflicted with that damned cursed seal again, he would revert back to that early Kimimaro, the one who was so sickeningly devoted to Orochimaru, the one who saw no reason for living except serving him…

"When Kabuto informed me that they were beginning the preparations, I found that I – I did not wish for it to happen again," said Kimimaro.

He pulled open his shirt. "So, you see…"

The skin below his collarbone was as pale as it ever was, unstained by the wicked lines of the cursed seal. The sight of that unblemished skin set off a wave of relief in Sakura that actually shocked her with its strength.

She flew towards him and held him tightly, her face pressed into his chest. "You didn't let him – oh, I am so _glad_ …"

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

He smelled of snow and cold, but below that, she could detect that antiseptic soapy smell that was all Kimimaro. It made her want to cling to him even more tightly, and it also kind of made her want to cry, because, somehow, oh my god, this was happening, he was actually _here_ …

Light touches at her waist told her that his hands were hovering uncertainly there.

"Sorry," said Sakura, pulling away and turning her eyes to the floor lest he see the suggestion of tears there. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. Please – what happened after?"

Kimimaro looked like he wanted to continue to be interrupted but Sakura put three good strides between them and waited expectantly for him to carry on.

"I left," said Kimimaro, dropping his hands back to his sides. "That is all."

Sakura blinked at him. "What? They just let you leave?"

"They did not know," said Kimimaro. "I was not locked up like the Uchiha."

"Are you serious? You just… up and left?"

Kimimaro shrugged. "It was not difficult. They sent me on a mission. And I did not go back."

Sakura looked at him in wonder. Of course – Orochimaru and Kabuto would never have imagined him leaving, never in their wildest dreams. He was a Sound nin through and through; he never had a watch set on him, he was free to roam the compound as well as beyond it, because he was Kimimaro, their most dedicated soldier, their most hard-core loyalist…

And yet, somehow, he was here.

With her.

This was possibly a good thing, but very possibly, also, a bad thing. Sakura bit her lip anxiously. "And Orochimaru…? Does he know where you went? Does he know you're here?"

Kimimaro was freshly mesmerized by her lip-biting but eventually remembered himself enough to shake his head no. He reached for her hands again unconsciously, like one entranced.

Sakura only half felt the fingers running along hers: a knot of anxiety tightened her stomach as she put together the implications of this information.

"But – Orochimaru is going to be so _angry_. You're a massive investment – do you have any idea how much you cost him? Keeping you alive all of those years, and then kidnapping me to heal you at huge risk, and blowing out any possibility of an alliance with the Leaf in doing so… he won't throw all that away. You're unspeakably valuable to him, you're his next body. He's going to be furious… "

"Yes," said Kimimaro in a tone that suggested that, obviously, he had considered all of these things.

Sakura searched his face: she could understand why he had left, if he had decided to escape the enslavement of the cursed seal, but…

"Why did you come to Konoha?" asked Sakura. "This place, of all places, is so _dangerous_ for you…"

"You," said Kimimaro.

"Me…?"

Sakura stared at him in disbelief – surely, _surely_ she wasn't worth risking Orochimaru's wrath, and leaving everything he knew behind him? She knew that he _liked_ her, and maybe more than liked her, but this was a hell of a move for a crush…

He took a step closer and appeared to be searching for his words, which was good, because it meant that he wouldn't notice the blush spreading across Sakura's cheekbones or hear her pulse taking off at a hundred miles an hour.

"Yes," he said. "Because – because I wanted to see you again. As me. Not him."

His hand reached for her shoulder, then slid to the nape of her neck as he leaned in to press his forehead to hers. Time slowed down – the whole world slowed down. Sakura found herself hyper-aware of the tiniest details – the crisscross of the snow-dampened fibres of his shirt where the material stretched across his shoulders, the feel of his breath feathering along her collarbone, the way the tips of his hair drifted against her skin like the lightest calligraphic instrument, his intense green eyes searching hers as he strove to find the words.

His fingers under her chin tilted her face up to his. She momentarily lost herself in their exchange of breaths, in the gaze that was telling her that she was the dearest thing in the world to him…

"You told me, once, long ago, that I mattered to you," said Kimimaro.

Sakura remembered that, of course – that moment where she managed to convince him that, despite the circumstances, he wasn't a mere bargaining chip to her, but a person, a real person that she really cared about, and it was probably never truer than right now…

He was still leaning his forehead into hers. She nodded; her lips brushed against the corner of his mouth accidentally; the thrill was electric.

He pulled back a little through some supreme force of will: he still had things to say.

"It has – it has _haunted_ me, that I never told you, before you left" – here he stopped, and took a halting breath – "how very much you matter to me."

Sakura was unable to stop a swift shy smile from making its way across her face. Just for a moment, the sight took his breath away.

"I am – damaged," continued Kimimaro with a sincerity and self-awareness that broke her heart. "But you have healed much of me. My broken body and… and things that I did not know I was missing."

Sakura looked up at him and wished that she had the courage to tell him that he had helped her discover things that she did not know she was missing, too – like this, whatever this was, in this moment, this thing between them that was so powerful and strange and real.

She envied him, then, because he was not tongue-tied by shyness or worried about awkwardness or otherwise bridled by social convention. He was unafraid and painfully sincere and he trusted her so much…

She couldn't hold his gaze – it was too unguarded, too intense. His hands ran along her bare shoulders and down her arms to her hands, which he held with a squeeze.

"Please," he said. "I want to be with you."

"But – but what am I supposed to do with you?" asked Sakura in a voice barely above a whisper, because her heartbeat was pulsing away thickly in her throat.

"I do not know," he said. "Whatever you want. I am yours."

VVV

It was a testament to how profoundly absorbed they were in each other that neither of these two highly-trained shinobi noticed the approach of another, until a thud announced his landing on the balcony.

Sakura and Kimimaro vaulted apart reflexively. Sakura peered into the night, where a familiar silhouette stood on her balcony in the thickly-falling snow.

"Kakashi…?"

"Yo," said Kakashi. "You left this open, did you know?"

He strode into the room and dusted snow off of himself with the kind of slow deliberation that meant that, as Sakura knew from years of working with him, he was on high alert.

"None of the operatives assigned to you did their scheduled radio check-in at 4:30," said Kakashi. "So I thought I'd come by."

His uncovered eye settled on Kimimaro. "…Who's this?"

"This?" said Sakura, turning to Kimimaro and striving to come up with some plausible story to buy herself some time to think. "This – this is, um–"

"Kimimaro Kaguya," said Kimimaro.

Sakura resisted the urge to drop her face into her palms. The _one_ time he should have kept his mouth shut…

Kakashi's visible eyebrow shot up. Kimimaro stared at him impassively, apparently unaware – or unconcerned – about the consequences of revealing his identity to this random one-eyed Konoha ninja.

"Kakashi–" began Sakura, but he held up his hand.

"Hang on, hang on," said Kakashi, fixing Kimimaro with his eye. "I've gotta make sure I understand the situation here – this is a Sound shinobi?"

"Yes, he is, but–"

"A Sound shinobi who knocked out three ANBU specifically placed to guard you from Sound shinobi?"

"Yes, but–"

"And now he's in your room?"

"Yes, but Kakashi–"

"You can explain the _buts_ once I've taken care of this guy," said Kakashi, pushing up his hitai-ate.

His Sharingan was a subtle ember in the dark. The moment that Kimimaro caught sight of that crimson glow, the slick sound of a bone sword being pushed out of his palm rang through the room.

"Uchiha," hissed Kimimaro. He stepped out in front of Sakura, his bearing conveying a general invitation to Kakashi to go ahead and try.

"No," said Sakura, grabbing Kimimaro's arm. "He's not an Uchiha, Kimimaro – he's not an enemy, don't fight him, please–"

Kakashi took in Kimimaro's stance and the way he had defensively placed himself in front of Sakura, and she could see that he registered a slight surprise.

"Kakashi, put it away, you don't need to–"

"In a sec," said Kakashi, apparently hell-bent on putting Kimimaro out of commission before they had a discussion about this. "First it's time for someone to take a little nap."

The Sharingan spun its spiraling dance and Sakura felt a shiver of chakra as Kakashi's genjutsu entrapped Kimimaro.

They stared at each other for a long, frozen moment, during which Kakashi clearly expected Kimimaro to drop to his knees – and then Kimimaro pushed out a second sword and blinked.

Kakashi masked his shock well, though Sakura was too familiar with his mannerisms to be fooled.

"Huh. You broke out," said Kakashi in a bored voice that meant that he was very much _not_ bored.

Sakura's anxiety was turning to anger as both of these imbeciles, who were equally important to her in different ways, seemed ready to proceed to bloodshed. She pushed her way past Kimimaro.

"Kakashi – will you _listen_ to me? He's been training with an Uchiha for _years_ , do you really think he doesn't know how to break out of the Sharingan? His bloodline is all about pushing bones out of his body, all about self-inflicted pain – he can wake himself out of your genjutsu with every twitch, for god's sake…"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kimimaro spin his swords impatiently, as though eager to get on with this fight.

" _No_ ," said Sakura, whipping around to hold Kimimaro's forearm with a grip forceful enough to threaten breakage. "Put those away. And Kakashi, cover up your eye. You are _not_ going to fight each other–!"

The sound of some muffled swearing made the three of them turn towards the balcony. Shizune was making her way up the railing, apparently experiencing difficulties because of the tightness of her dress and the height of her silvery stilettoes.

This night had officially gotten _weird_.

Sakura stared speechlessly at Shizune before giving Kakashi a proper look and noticing that he appeared to have actually brushed his hair in the past year.

"Um. Were you two just on a date?" asked Sakura as Shizune clambered into the room.

"No," said Shizune at the same time as Kakashi said, "yes."

Shizune gave Kakashi a black glare and then eyed Kimimaro. "Uh – who is this?"

"Um – this is, well, he's–" began Sakura.

"Kimimaro Kaguya," said Kimimaro.

" _What?_ " said Shizune. Glittering senbon materialized into her fists out of nowhere.

"God damn it," said Sakura, pressing her palm to her forehead.

She wondered, briefly, if she should just bring the whole building down over them all and run away, because her life was too complicated to endure right now.

That was approximately when a dozen ANBU landed on her balcony and swarmed her apartment.

VVV

With difficulty, Sakura convinced Kimimaro to lay down his swords and cooperate – and with even greater difficulty, she convinced the paranoid ANBU operatives not to harm him, because she would vouch for his good behaviour, and also, she would knock the head off of anyone who did. (It was the latter threat that proved to be the most effective.)

Tsunade was never an early bird, so suffice it to say that that morning's 5:00 a.m. wakeup call did not put her in a good mood. She ordered that Kimimaro be placed in a holding cell and then had Sakura, Kakashi, Shizune, and her ANBU officers brief her on their varying versions of events, by the end of which she was in possibly the most foul mood that Sakura had ever seen.

She stormed around her office and spat out questions in the general direction of her team without giving anyone much of a chance to answer: how the hell did this kid manage to infiltrate the village? Where were the wall guards and what, exactly, did she pay them for? How did the Kaguya take out three ANBU operatives? And how did he do so without anyone goddamn hearing? Why did Kakashi not manage to subdue him immediately? Why was he even still conscious? What the hell kind of prodigy was this kid, or was she actually surrounded by genin? Were there any actual jounin in the house? Hello? And why was Shizune wearing those shoes?

Everyone turned to look at Shizune's sparkly shoes, because it was the only question that did not seem to be a rhetorical one.

"I–" said Shizune.

"Nevermind," said Tsunade. "I don't want to know. I need a drink."

"But it's 5:00 a.m.–" said Shizune.

" _Exactly_ ," said Tsunade. "Now. The Sound kid is locked up. Do I have actual _competent_ ninja on guard at his cell?"

"Yes," said a masked ANBU officer. "Three of my men–"

"Three of your men? Really? Need I remind you that three of them _barely slowed him down_ just now?"

"But he is in a cell that could hold any shinobi–"

Tsunade held up her hand and the ANBU officer wisely shut up.

"Double the guard," said Tsunade.

"Yes ma'am."

"And double the watch on Sakura, in case there are more of them."

This seemed to be a good moment for Sakura to point out that, in fact, she doubted that Kimimaro had backup, because he was actually making a run for it – but perhaps this news would incite more hysteria in this already tense room, if they thought that Orochimaru was on his trail…

As the ANBU officer and his team trotted out, Sakura closed her mouth, having decided to convey this information to Tsunade alone.

"As for you, Twinkletoes," said Tsunade, turning to Shizune. "Have the Council informed that we will be meeting first thing in the morning."

"Yes ma'am. What time?" asked Shizune in a small voice.

"I said _first thing in the morning_ , Shizune."

"B-but it's already morning…"

Tsunade's nostrils flared dangerously, until she glanced at the clock and appeared to concede the point. "Fine. Seven."

"Yes ma'am."

"And make sure there's coffee," added Tsunade.

"Yes."

"Strong coffee."

"Yes."

"And muffins."

"Yes."

"Good. Go."

Shizune sparkled her way out under Tsunade's judgemental stare.

"Kakashi," she said, turning to the slouchy figure in the corner, which sprang to something resembling attentiveness.

"Mm?"

"Coordinate with the Kaguya's guards to have him bound and ready to be brought before the Council in two hours. They're going to want to speak with him. Have Intel informed of the situation and put them on standby. I want Ino to examine him – I think she's on a mission. Have a hawk sent for her."

"Understood."

Tsunade stared out of the window, where dawn's light was just beginning to colour the sky. "They say that he's being cooperative. Why is he being cooperative?"

"Someone else can answer that better than me," said Kakashi, looking askance at Sakura. "He listens to her, apparently…"

"Then I'll ask her," said Tsunade, turning her attention towards Sakura. "Go, Kakashi."

Kakashi gave her a lazy salute and disappeared out the door, which Tsunade shut behind him with a click.

Tsunade heaved a sigh and turned to Sakura.

"Okay. We're alone. I want the real story," said Tsunade. "Not this stupid 'huhu he showed up and I dunno' bullshit."

Sakura's stress and nerves almost caused her to fall into hysterical laughter at Tsunade's unexpected stupid-Sakura impression. She stuffed a fist into her mouth until the gravity of the situation sobered her back up.

"I didn't have time to talk to him long, before Kakashi arrived," she said. "But he told me he left the Sound."

"He _left_?"

"Yes."

"He just… up and left?"

"I _know_ ," said Sakura. "That's what _I_ said."

"I don't believe it for a second," said Tsunade. "This is a trap, of course. Orochimaru is up to something."

"I don't think so," said Sakura.

Tsunade was obviously not in the mood to be second-guessed. She narrowed her eyes at Sakura. "Why?"

"Because I believe Kimimaro," said Sakura.

"Why do you believe him?"

"Because – because I trust him," said Sakura, more haltingly than she would've liked. "I told you, he's a good person…"

"Wow, Sakura," said Tsunade, quite visibly unimpressed. "That's _really_ not enough for me to go on, here. You might trust him and you might be right to do so – I'm not saying that you _are_ , mind you, you naive young thing, I'm saying that I can entertain the possibility…"

She collapsed heavily into her chair. "But Orochimaru is involved in this story. That makes me paranoid. This story stopped making sense the minute that Orochimaru's dream vessel showed up at our door. That makes me _doubly_ paranoid."

"And this kid, I mean, what the hell," continued Tsunade, rubbing her eyes. "He's an enemy nin. But he infiltrated us with no casualties. He didn't hurt your guards. And he didn't hurt you. What the hell do I make of this?"

"That he's telling the truth," said Sakura. "He's running away and he needs help. You trust my judgement to save people's lives every day, I wish you'd trust me on this, Tsunade–"

"Oh, I _do_ trust your judgement," said Tsunade. "I trust it all day long. And I can trust you on this, sure, if and when you decide to stop being so damn guarded with me and give me more than this 'I believe him' hand-waving to work with…"

She fixed Sakura with a penetrating stare that Sakura was only able to hold for a few seconds before looking away.

"But, ultimately, it's not me you have to convince," said Tsunade. "It's the Council. And I'm quite certain that they're going to want him dead."

VVV

_She flew towards him and held him tightly, her face pressed into his chest. "You didn't let him – oh, I am so glad…"_

_"Yes," said Kimimaro._

_He smelled of snow and cold, but below that, she could detect that antiseptic soapy smell that was all Kimimaro. It made her want to cling to him even more tightly, and it also kind of made her want to cry, because, somehow, oh my god, this was happening, he was actually here…_

(Art by niyochara at tumblr)


	17. Chapter 17

"I want him _dead_ ," said Councilman Mitokado.

Sakura met Tsunade's eyes across the Council chamber. Why did Tsunade have to be so right about everything all the time…?

She bit her lip. Of course Tsunade had been right about this; she worked with these people on a daily basis and therefore had a good sense of their preoccupations, their anxieties, their fears. Of course they'd react with extreme trepidation to news that Orochimaru's killing machine had effortlessly infiltrated the village. Of course they'd panic about him being found in Sakura's apartment, of course they'd interpret this as some second kidnap attempt interrupted in the nick of time by Kakashi, or else some kind of trap.

This did not change Sakura's opinion that wanting Kimimaro dead was an absurd overreaction. She pinned the voluble Councilman and his waving hands with a dark look, one that did not go unnoticed by Councilwoman Furui.

The older woman shook her white head. "Calm yourself, Councilman. He is being shipped to Torture and Interrogation later today – before we decide to execute the man, let's wait until they can give us a clearer picture of his intentions here."

"He's a Sound shinobi," replied Mitokado. "I don't see what his intentions could possibly _be_ , beyond abducting the Haruno girl again or otherwise causing Konoha grief…"

"Yes – but he claims that he is defecting from the Sound," said Councilwoman Furui. "Let Ms. Yamanaka do her job and find out if that is indeed the case."

"Agreed," said Councilwoman Utatane. "She's on the way. In the meantime, I'd like to hear his own account of his motivations. Shall we have him in?"

The three other councillors nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Upon seeing this general consent among the members, Tsunade signaled to the guards at the door.

Kimimaro was brought in, so heavily chained up that he could barely walk, a slim white figure amidst the browns and greens of the squadron that surrounded him. Sakura took in a sharp breath when she saw that they had put him in the horrible chakra-sucking manacles reserved for the very worst criminals.

Their eyes met as he was dragged into the room. His gaze told her everything – he was trusting her, now, but he was _not happy_. And Sakura thought as hard as she could in his direction, please, please believe me, I'm going to find a way to get you out of this, I won't let them hurt you…

He did not resist as he was pushed down into the single chair that sat where the arms of the Council's semicircular table met. His chains were locked into place. Two shinobi guards remained at his side while the others retreated to stand along the walls.

As the crowd around him thinned, everyone's gaze focused on the pale man in the middle of the room. Sakura heard whispers of wonder and fear: here was the one that the Haruno girl had been kidnapped to save from certain death, here was the deadly Kaguya prodigy, here was Otogakure's crown jewel, they say he can use his own bones as weapons, they say he's the last of his bloodline, they say he's a swordsmaster unsurpassed, a monster, a killer…

Kimimaro settled into the chair with the quiet grace that always marked his movements. That grace, combined with his beautiful face, his white hair, his pale skin, made him look like some angelic martyr in his heavy chains. This ran counter to the crowd's initial – and rather more hostile – idea of him, of course, and Sakura could see surprise, uncertainty, and curiosity in the faces of the members of the Council and the audience.

Sakura was about ten feet to Kimimaro's right in the first row of the seats reserved for the audience. From this vantage point she had a good view of his profile. His fine lips were drawn into a neutral line and his bearing was composed; he looked as impassive and self-collected as always.

Mutterings filled the room until Tsunade held up her hand, at which point a respectful silence fell. The old Council scribe leaned forward, his pen held over his record book as though he was preparing to take off on a marathon.

"I will remind all of those present that the proceedings of the Council are confidential. None of these matters are to be discussed outside of these walls," said Tsunade.

She made eye contact with each of the dozen people in the room and waited for a nod from each, including Sakura, before proceeding.

Then she turned her attention to Kimimaro, who was the object of her scrutiny for a long, quiet moment. Sakura wondered what was going through Tsunade's head as she studied Kimimaro – his unreadable face, his steady gaze that stared unflinchingly back at her, underlined by lines that looked blood red in the dim Council chamber.

"State your name for the record."

"Kimimaro Kaguya," said Kimimaro.

"Age?"

"25."

Sakura was relieved to hear his voice as toneless as ever, without the slightest hesitation or quiver of nervousness. He answered Tsunade's questions with a kind of polite detachment, so calm that he seemed almost bored with the proceedings.

"The Sound broke our no-hostility agreement two years ago. You have wandered into enemy territory by entering the Hidden Leaf. Are you aware of this?"

"Yes."

"Did you come here of your own free will?"

"Yes."

"You are the shinobi that has been identified by Orochimaru as his next vessel, correct?"

"Yes."

A long, shaky sigh interrupted Tsunade's line of questioning. She turned to the balding councillor on her left with a raised eyebrow.

"Councilman Hageru, you have an intervention to make?"

"Forgive me," said Hageru in his quivery voice. "But it shocks me. It simply shocks me and it breaks my heart. With this Kaguya here, Orochimaru will most certainly use Sasuke for his next soul-transfer. The Leaf has lost the Sharingan."

Tsunade blinked and turned away from him, quite clearly of the opinion that this remark was useless and not worth the interruption. Just when she opened her mouth to continue, however, she was again interrupted – this time by Kimimaro.

"I do not think so," said Kimimaro. "The Uchiha escaped."

This declaration caused a ripple of whispers to erupt in the room until Tsunade's glare quelled the talkers.

She turned back to Kimimaro. "How long ago did he escape?"

"Three months," said Kimimaro, "perhaps."

"Perhaps?"

Kimimaro looked at her with that expressionless face. "I am not certain. I have been travelling for many days."

"How long ago did you leave Otogakure?"

"More than two months, less than three months," said Kimimaro.

"How did Sasuke escape?"

"Fire," said Kimimaro.

"An intentional fire?"

"I believe so."

"Do you know where he went?"

"No."

"Do you know if Orochimaru is after him?"

"No."

"Do you know if Orochimaru is after you?"

"No."

"Do you know where the Sound's new base of operations is?"

"No."

Tsunade's nostrils flared. Sakura could see that Kimimaro's bland answers were frustrating both her and the information-starved Council. Councilwoman Utatane had her fingertips pressed hard into each other and Mitokado was growing twitchy in his seat.

As Tsunade's next series of questions elicited answers in much the same vein, Mitokado raised his hand to speak.

"Councilman Mitokado," said Tsunade, indicating that he could go ahead with a gesture.

The Councilman turned to Kimimaro. "We are given to understand that you have chosen to leave the Sound."

"Yes."

"To be clear – you are choosing to defect from your village?"

Kimimaro shrugged, which set his heavy chains clanging. "If that is what it is called."

"Why did you leave the Sound?"

"I did not wish to receive the seal again," said Kimimaro.

"The seal," repeated Mitokado. "The cursed earth seal?"

"Yes."

"You were given that seal by Orochimaru previously, were you not?

"Yes."

"And at that time, you subjected yourself to this – this _experience_ willingly?"

"Yes."

"What changed, between last time and this time?"

For the first time since this audience-slash-interrogation began, Kimimaro hesitated.

"With the Uchiha gone, I knew that I would be the next vessel," he said. "There was no more choice for Orochimaru to make."

"And…?"

"And I did not want it to be me," said Kimimaro. He glanced, briefly, towards Sakura. "I could not bear it…"

A dozen other pairs of eyes glanced at Sakura, including Tsunade's quizzical gaze. Her cheeks warmed at the unwanted attention.

Mitokado leaned forwards, as though he finally felt that they were getting somewhere. "You could not bear what, exactly?"

Sakura bit her lip. This was not good. This was not good, because Kimimaro was innocent and guileless and he had no filter and didn't know enough to spin the truth into something that wouldn't get them both into trouble…

"Losing my body," said Kimimaro. "I wish to live."

With a small sigh of relief, Sakura blessed the simplicity of this answer, which few would find fault with… except that when he gave it, he looked at her again, which he really needed to stop doing, because even the clueless Councilman was going to clue in eventually…

"My understanding is that losing your body didn't matter to you before," said Mitokado.

Kimimaro looked at him and said nothing.

"In fact," continued Mitokado, glancing down at his notes, "I believe that you _wanted_ it."

"Yes."

"Then – I ask again – what changed?"

Sakura wondered what she could do to stave off this line of questioning, which was delving too much in matters that were too sensitive to be discussed so publicly. Perhaps she could feign illness, or cause some sort of distraction…

"What changed, Kaguya?" repeated Mitokado when Kimimaro was silent.

"Everything," said Kimimaro.

Sakura sat back in relief: another vague answer, another bullet dodged, perhaps?

No. The Councilman was too tenacious for that. His fingers rapped impatiently on the table. "You'll need to be a little more specific than that."

Kimimaro stared at him in silence. The Councilman shifted under his unblinking gaze.

"…Did you hear me? How did _everything_ change? We're going to need more details, if we are to begin understand – and believe – this about-face that you claim to have made."

"She changed everything," said Kimimaro at length.

"She?" repeated Councilman Mitokado. "Who is _she_?"

Kimimaro inclined his head in Sakura's direction. "My healer."

Sakura felt herself flush. She wished, unsuccessfully, that she would suddenly become invisible.

The Councilman looked from Kimimaro to Sakura and then back again. All four members of the Council, save for Tsunade, were sitting up straighter in their seats now and watching Kimimaro with fresh interest.

Sakura dared to glance up at Tsunade's face. Her mentor's expression was neutral and utterly unreadable.

"What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Ms. Haruno?" asked Councilman Mitokado.

Kimimaro blinked at him.

"I do not know," said Kimimaro.

"You don't know?"

"I do not know," repeated Kimimaro.

When he looked up and saw all of the Council's faces clearly expecting more, he continued: "She healed an illness that they said was incurable. She pulled me from the edge of death. She showed me that there was more to life than serving Orochimaru. She taught me that there are good things – better things, to feel. Thanks to her I breathe again, I fight again, I live again. What do you call that?"

Mitokado, disconcerted by this sudden volubility, did not have a ready answer. Silence fell.

Councilwoman Furui folded her hands in front of her and peered at Kimimaro over her glasses.

"I would call it gratitude – among, perhaps, other things," she said in her kind old-lady voice. "And if you are being sincere about it – which I believe you may well be – that is a laudable thing, and entirely to your credit."

Kimimaro looked at her in silence, then favoured her with the tiniest inclination of his head.

"This is all very well, this gratitude," quivered Councilman Hageru, "but now, because this boy has decided that he wishes to live–"

"God forbid," interjected Councilwoman Utatane with her usual degree of snark. "What an unnatural impulse."

"–Of course, of course it is _natural_ ," said Councilman Hageru with a frown. "Far be it from me to suggest otherwise. But, nevertheless: now Orochimaru has neither of his two vessels at his disposal. And he will most definitely come looking for them…"

"We have the Kaguya boy," said Councilman Mitokado, "and we know that Orochimaru wants him. Why don't we trade him for the Uchiha."

Sakura knew enough of Kimimaro's nonverbal communication to see that he did not like this suggestion. He shifted in his seat, causing the heavy chains to jangle.

Mitokado looked up and found that he was the subject of Kimimaro's displeased glare. This seemed to unnerve him; he turned away from Kimimaro and avoided his gaze thereafter.

Hageru bobbed his frail head up and down in agreement with Mitokado. "There's an idea. Excellent. Orochimaru will agree, of course; he gets his number one choice back, we get Sasuke Uchiha back, and the Sharingan stays in the Leaf…"

Sakura's ire began to rise – they had no right to suggest that Kimimaro be used as a bargaining tool; he wasn't theirs to trade – until she remembered that she was guilty of exactly that when she had first become embroiled in this affair two years ago and attempted to barter Sasuke's freedom for Kimimaro's life.

That realization was an unpleasant combination of humbling and bitter, but she could understand the Council's motivations; she had attempted to do the same, after all. She sank back into her seat.

A hush fell as the Council considered this possibility. Sakura was worried to see that even Tsunade looked as though she was giving it serious thought. Of course she would value Sasuke's return highly enough that she'd trade off Kimimaro, but…

Councilwoman Utatane pressed her lips into a thin line. "This won't work."

"Elaborate, please," said Mitokado, apparently vexed that she had found a flaw in his suggestion.

"Until Yamanaka tells us otherwise, let's assume that the Kaguya boy is telling the truth. That means Orochimaru couldn't give us Sasuke, even if he wanted to – he doesn't have him anymore."

She pressed back a strand of steel-grey hair that had escaped her tight bun. "Secondly, I wouldn't trust Orochimaru enough to make such an arrangement with him – Haruno here can attest to how _creative_ Orochimaru can be in interpreting contracts. He'll play us. He'll find a way to get both of them back under his control."

"Thirdly – and worst of all," she continued, fixing Mitokado with an icy look, "in making that offer we'd be disclosing that we have the Kaguya – information that Orochimaru does not yet have. I'm sure that you will agree with me that it's best that we keep that information from him for as long as possible."

She pressed her bony fingertips together. "Now. With the Kaguya here, Orochimaru no longer has access to his body and bloodline limit. Need I remind you of how extraordinarily preoccupied we were about the possibility of Orochimaru taking the Kaguya's body? He is here now. We have now removed that possibility."

"Meaning no offense, young lad," said Hageru, looking to Kimimaro, "but would it not be wise to remove the possibility _permanently_?"

Kimimaro fixed him with a stare but nevertheless kept his impeccable cool. Sakura was grateful for this; it must not have been easy to be chained and powerless and listen to these suggestions that he be bartered back to Orochimaru – or executed.

"No. That would force Orochimaru's hand," said Councilwoman Furui with a shake of her white head. "With the Kaguya boy dead, he would pour all of his not inconsiderable resources into seeking out Sasuke. From Sakura's account of Sasuke's state of mind, I am not sure how long the boy can keep on evading Orochimaru before he is captured again. The seal is a force that he cannot run from forever. He had a moment of lucidity and managed to escape – but he will be drawn back to Orochimaru sooner or later. It is inevitable."

Mitokado conceded the point with a slow nod. "Very well. I can see that the Kaguya may have more value to us alive. But, if that is the case, then _we_ must pour _our_ not inconsiderable resources into finding the Uchiha boy before Orochimaru does. If there is any possibility that the Hidden Leaf might not lose the Sharingan, this _must_ become our new imperative. We need to call in our allies, get assistance from anywhere we can, put hundreds and hundreds of eyes out…"

Tsunade, who had been sitting back and letting them hash out their arguments, straightened up.

"We've been launching searches for Sasuke over the last ten years," she said. "By now, he's spent almost half of his life on the run. As long as he's regained some form of control over the seal, he'll be able to keep to the shadows – which is good, because it means that he'll evade Orochimaru for a little longer – but also not good, because he'll keep evading us for just as long."

"Nevertheless," continued Tsunade, turning towards Mitokado, "I will put out the order for our efforts to be redoubled on that front, and for our allies to be approached for additional assistance."

She studied Kimimaro. "Having the Kaguya here changes the game for us. No matter how you look at it, Orochimaru has lost his Plan A – and that, for us, is a good thing. If he wants him, he'll have to come and get him – which I know frightens _some_ of us – but he'll be loath to do it, because of the risks involved. Personally, I'd love to see him try – I'd welcome him with open arms."

"And closed fists, no doubt," said Councilwoman Utatane drily.

There was a ripple in the room as the crowd nodded, reminded, all of a sudden, that their cranky Hogake was also one of the legendary sannin.

Tsunade's impassive façade broke into the tiniest smile. "You know me too well, Councilwoman Utatane. Now… we have Kimimaro Kaguya in our custody. Let's make sure that whatever we do, we're strategic about it. The first step towards that is to make sure that he's telling us the truth. Do I have an agreement?"

There was a general mutter of assent amidst the Council members.

"Good," said Tsunade, gesturing the guards. "Take him to Intel. He is Ino's priority as soon as she gets back. I want a full report on my desk the very minute Intel is done with him."

Sakura's heart sank as she watched Kimimaro get carted off. This meeting had gone quite well overall – far better than she expected, actually – but now… now he was going to face Ino Yamanaka, who was going to scrub her way through his brain and see _everything_ …

VVV

Sakura took advantage of the general din after Tsunade adjourned the meeting to slip out of the room and trot down the hallway, intent on getting to Ino and telling her – telling her something, she didn't know what, but she needed to give her an explanation…

"Sakura."

Tsunade didn't have to raise her voice for it to carry all the way down the hall.

"Yes?" said Sakura, turning around with as much nonchalance as she could fake.

"My office," said Tsunade.

Sakura trotted after Tsunade, whose quick steps were echoing sharply down the passage.

Sakura wasn't certain what exactly she had done to annoy Tsunade, but obviously, she had somehow managed to…

"I saw that they had Kimimaro in those chakra cuffs," said Sakura to break the silence.

"Yes," said Tsunade.

"But – it's awful, to stem someone's chakra like that. He's behaved himself, hasn't he…?"

"Do you know who he _is_?" said Tsunade staring straight ahead of her.

"Yes, but…"

"They'll stay on him until I decide otherwise," she said. "And don't give me that look. This is the Leaf; he's being treated humanely and will continue to be unless he gives me a reason to treat him otherwise."

"Can I go see him?"

"No. No-one speaks to him until Intel has scrubbed through his brains and I know what's real and what's not in this bizarre story."

They walked into Tsunade's office to find Shizune adding more files to the precariously-leaning pile already on the desk. She was shooed out by Tsunade, who shut the door behind her with a snap.

"Sit," said Tsunade to Sakura.

Sakura sat. She found herself being studied by Tsunade, who was looking severe.

"I can't believe that you would withhold something this important from me."

Sakura blinked at her, unsure which of her many guiltily-held secrets Tsunade was referring to.

"In all of our talks – in all of our endless discussions about your ordeal in the Sound… you seem to have neglected to mention one thing."

"Oh?"

"Don't you ' _oh?_ ' me," said Tsunade. "Are you telling me you can't think of one important thing you didn't tell me about?"

Sakura blinked at her. Yes, actually, she could, but…

"Well," said Tsunade. "Let me help you out. You told me that Kimimaro Kaguya surprised you because he was _kind_. Do you remember that conversation?"

"Yes…" said Sakura warily.

"You didn't quite finish that sentence though, did you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't tell me that Kimimaro Kaguya was _kind of_ _in love with you_."

Sakura's mouth fell open in genuine surprise. "What?"

Tsunade glared at her. "Do you think I'm blind? Or just stupid?"

"Neither, Tsunade, I swear…"

Tsunade crossed her arms. "Really."

" _Yes_ , really…!"

As she studied Sakura's genuinely baffled face, the tightness around Tsunade's mouth dissipated a little.

"He may not know it himself," said Tsunade. "Who knows – he might not even know what love is, with the kind of life he's led – but _I_ can sure as hell tell."

Sakura shook her head in disbelief. "Tsunade – no. He's grateful to me, like Councilwoman Furui said. And, okay, he _likes_ me, he might have a bit of a crush on me, I know that, and I admit it, I didn't tell you because it was awkward – but it's not _love_ – that is way too strong a word…"

"Wow," said Tsunade. "I'm not the blind or stupid one. You are."

"Hey…"

"I saw him with you for all of an hour and I know this. My god, Sakura. I'm not sure how you can be as intelligent as you are and still be so completely oblivious."

Sakura frowned at Tsunade, finding herself actually growing vexed now.

"Either way," said Tsunade with a shrug, "Ino is going to tell me what's going on inside of that boy's head."

"Good," said Sakura with much more sass than she usually dared show with her temperamental mentor. "She'll be able to tell you you're _wrong_."

"I've been wrong before," said Tsunade. "But I'm not wrong about this. I'd make a bet with you on it, except, of course, that would somehow backfire on me…"

She caught Sakura's stubborn, angry stare, and cracked a smile.

"Oh, for god's sake. The way he was looking at you today – each glance was basically a love poem. It would've been cute if he wasn't the protégé of my worst and most hated enemy, and if you weren't the closest thing to a daughter that I have–"

Tsunade cut herself off mid-sentence and stared at the wall, because that last part was obviously not something she intended to say out loud, ever.

As for Sakura, she stared at a piece of paper on Tsunade's desk and pretended not to have heard, though the piece of paper grew curiously blurry…

"You're dismissed," said Tsunade, turning to the window.

Sakura rose. She stared at Tsunade's back, where her long pigtails framed the kanji for gamble, and wished that she dared to go give her a quick hug, but she didn't quite have the nerve to do so.

"You aren't to speak with Ino until I have her finalized report on my desk," said Tsunade as Sakura's footsteps retreated towards the door.

"Of – of course not," said Sakura. "I'm off to the library. I have some – some research to do."

"Good. You do that."

Explicit orders from the Hokage were not to be trifled with. Sakura therefore dropped all thoughts of meeting up with Ino for the moment; she'd have to deal with that fresh new fiasco when it happened.

Wanting to stay true to her word to Tsunade – especially after that heartwarming, though unintentional, remark – she headed for the library.

The library wasn't actually a bad place to go at this particular moment, because, while listening to the Council prattle on about their worries for the Uchiha clan, she had been struck by the first ticklings of an idea. But these ticklings were so very faint, and so very uncertain, that she almost didn't dare to think of them head on, lest they disappear on her.

Instead, she would read up, in a very general, way, on the history of Konoha's clans, and see what she could find…

VVV


	18. Chapter 18

Sakura lay low the week following the Council meeting. Given Tsunade's stringent orders about confidentiality, Sakura couldn't speak with anyone about these developments – Naruto, Kakashi, Ino…

In any case, as a critical piece of Intel's investigation, Ino all but disappeared from the radar as Kimimaro was interrogated. It put Sakura in a cold sweat to think of what Intel was going to find, with Ino riffling around in his brain and Ibiki hammering him with questions from every possible angle. Because Sakura was hiding a secret about a relationship that was somewhat more than the patient-medic thing that she had painted it as, in all of her accounts to her superiors, and she wasn't certain how this was going to play out.

Then there was the question of Kimimaro's real intentions. Sakura was certain that they were what he said they were – but what if she was wrong? What if this was some other machination of Orochimaru's, what if Kimimaro was being used somehow, willingly or not? What would she do?

Her head told her that the Council was right to be suspicious of him – of course, everything about this looked suspicious – but her heart told her that he was innocent. There had been too much truth in his eyes during their brief exchange on that snowy night…

Either way, they would be finding out soon, about everything: Ino was the best at what she did. Sakura was wrestling with guilt on that account, too; she knew that in Ino's hands Kimimaro wouldn't be damaged or hurt – but that did little to assuage the twinges of contrition that she endured, knowing that Kimimaro was spending days in dark rooms, facing an unfriendly barrage of questions and jutsus invading his headspace for days on end…

Ino and her colleagues at Intel were some of the very few who knew that Kimimaro was in Konoha. Fewer still knew what had transpired in the Council chambers. These were hefty secrets to keep, especially since the outcome weighed so heavily on Sakura.

She therefore avoided her friends, who could – even without Ino among them – be counted on to figure out that something was wrong. She took extra shifts and spent much of her free time holed up in her office at the hospital. (Social visits at her office grew rare after she informed those who came by that she was working on a new project involving nutritional suppositories and was looking for test subjects.)

That week was a productive one; Sakura had a backlog of filing that she blazed through, then she wrote up two project proposals in marathon writing sessions, then she finalized a funding application to have a new pediatric wing built at the General, and the times between were filled with back-to-back shifts.

All of these things she did because, the minute her brain stopped focusing on something, those strange few hours in the Council chamber would replay in her head: watching Kimimaro give out his bored answers in response to the Council's grilling until they managed to find that one angle that made him hesitate, that one question that made him uncomfortable, _what changed?_ … and then, if Tsunade was to be believed, Kimimaro had all but publicly declared his love for her.

Sakura settled into her office chair with a large mug of coffee and began to pull out stacks of files from her cabinets, having decided that she was now going to spend six hours archiving.

Tsunade was wrong, of course. Sakura could admit that Kimimaro had a crush on her, sure, and he was, obviously, a bit obsessed with her – he had travelled for months to find her, after all… but, having dealt with him for as long as she had, Sakura was not certain that love was in his emotional repertoire.

Still. If Tsunade had read it that way, it meant that others would have read it that way. Sakura grit her teeth when she thought of Councilwoman Furui's wry comment that Kimimaro was feeling _gratitude… among, probably, other things._

Sakura took comfort in the fact that, at least, very few had been privy to the odd meeting. The Council members would keep their mouths shut and the half-dozen guards would too, if they knew what was good for them.

The last thing she needed was someone running around Konoha telling everyone that a baddie had infiltrated the village only to be captured and declare to the Council that he was in love with Sakura Haruno…

The door of Sakura's office flew open and slammed shut and a blonde blur skidded to a halt in front of her desk.

"Hi, long time, I missed you," said Ino breathlessly. "I just dropped off our final report."

"Oh, so how did it–"

"He loves you."

Sakura opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "What–"

"That was your secret. Holy shit. This is crazy. He's got it _bad_."

Ino collapsed into the chair across from Sakura's desk and reached for her lukewarm coffee. " _Coffee_. Can I? I haven't slept in 24 hours, the Council was breathing down our necks to get this shit done, it's been crazy hectic, I'm like running on food pills right now…"

Ino took a long swig of coffee as Sakura stared at her in anxious silence, wondering what exactly she had seen, and just how incriminating it was. Ino's jutsu didn't exactly let her read minds, only see bits of memories and their associated feelings, but sometimes, she could come pretty damn close…

Ino set down the half-drained mug with a thud. "It's _crazy_. You're everywhere in his head."

"Oh…?"

" _Everywhere_. I can sometimes see flashes of memory, right – well, his happiest ones, they're all you. Like, he's almost always so calm, but then whenever I could feel excitement or joy, inevitably, those flashes were about you. Oh my god. There was this one, you were both sitting on this little cot thingy in this dungeon place…"

"Dungeon place?" repeated Sakura. "… I think that was probably my room?"

"Was it? Wow, that was basically a cell, they locked you in there for six months? Shit, Sakura, you poor thing, no wonder you're so damn pale…"

"…It's been almost two years, Ino."

"Okay, so you're just pale," said Ino, waving her hand. " _Anyway_ , you were both on this cot, and you were doing your chakra surfing thing and he wanted to kiss you but he didn't but he was like, floating with happiness? And this other time, you did something to a scar on his arm, and said something, and he had this huge happy realization? And then this other time, you were healing something on his face and you touched him or something, I dunno, but it made him _ecstatic_. And then there was this time when you were white as a sheet, and scared of something – your hands were shaking, poor baby – and he sat next to you and you leaned into him and his heart almost exploded…"

As Ino spoke of all of these moments, Sakura slowly brought her hands up to her mouth.

She'd had no idea. It pained her to find out about the intensity of these emotions that Kimimaro, for the most part, kept so carefully locked away. He was so goddamn stoic, she'd had no idea it was like _this_ …

"Yeah," said Ino upon seeing Sakura's shocked face. "Like I said, you're everywhere. Except when I go back earlier. Then it's all Orochimaru, this unnatural feverish love for him for years and years, but then there's this shift… something happened, one night, the memories were fuzzy, but Orochimaru did something to him, pulled something out of his chest just here," said Ino, touching below her collarbone, "and after that – you can just feel his adoration shrivelling right up – it's so weird…"

"His chest?" repeated Sakura. "That must've been the night that they pulled the seal from him…"

"Really? Oh. I thought the seals were on their necks, wasn't Sasuke's on his neck…?"

"I think it depends on where Orochimaru was putting his creepy mouth," said Sakura. "The Sound Four had theirs in different places, too. Kimimaro's was under his collarbone."

Ino's gaze found the ceiling, as though she was replaying the scene she had witnessed in her head. "Yeah… that would make total sense, then. Because right after that there was this drop-off. Suddenly, Orochimaru mattered less."

"And you mattered _more_ ," continued Ino, leaning forward with sudden enthusiasm. "There was one moment, I think it must've been the last time he saw you before you left the Sound, you were in a dark hallway and he was walking away from you, and oh my god…"

Ino appeared to be feeling the effects of the caffeine, judging by how quickly she was now talking. "I've never felt such a _wave_ of _desperation_ as there was at that moment. He thought he was never seeing you again and it was the end of everything… Then there were all of these months in the Sound, training and shit, I saw bits of Sasuke with crazy eyes – you weren't kidding about him. And _then_ there was a fire – that was awful, people were burnt alive, I really didn't need to see that…"

There was a moment of silence when Ino stared at her hands. "Yeah. That's gonna give me PTSD or something. Anyway – they moved on after the fire, this little band of the Sound survivors I guess, like ten of them, with Orochimaru and Kabuto, and Orochimaru was getting all chummy with Kimimaro, and you could feel the recoil in Kimimaro, it almost made me sick it was so strong. They started talking about the seal again and he kept his shit together in front of them, but inside – he was panicking, almost, it was crazy, because he's so calm in all of his other memories he's almost goddamn comatose…"

Sakura couldn't hold back a smile at this description that was, if she was honest, only a slight exaggeration.

"It's _true_ ," said Ino. "Like, nothing upsets him, but that really did. After that I could only find occasional flashes of forest and plains, of him travelling here I guess – and then the moment he first saw you through your window…"

Ino propped her chin in her hands and looked at Sakura, starry-eyed. "Everything was snowy white and your hair was, like, the only colour in the world, it was so romantic, you know… I mean obviously all of this is wrong and scary, this Sound guy in love with you, but oh my god he was like, soaring inside when he saw you, it was the most beautiful thing, it was so _pure_ …"

Sakura hid her face in her hands. "Crap. I knew he kinda had a crush on me, and yes, I _was_ keeping that from you, but I never realized it was all _that_ …"

"Oh, it _is_ all that," said Ino. She finished the coffee and plonked the mug back down. "Mm – we were able to write him a clean report, obviously, because there wasn't the least bit of a hint of betrayal or anything like that – and believe me, we looked. This Kaguya guy… he genuinely wants to be here because of _you_."

"Wow," breathed Sakura through her fingers.

"I know, right? Like I said. _Crazy_. Holy shit."

Ino leaned forwards and pulled Sakura's hands from her face. "But – the best part of all this? You don't need to be a secretive weirdo with me anymore."

Sakura stared at their joined hands on the table, hardly able to believe her luck. Somehow, in the thousands and thousands of flashes of Kimimaro's memories that Ino had seen, a very indicting one about a willingly shared kiss had slipped through the cracks…

Like Tsunade, Ino now knew about Kimimaro's feelings, but, also like Tsunade, she was completely oblivious to the fact that Sakura was herself wrestling with unclear feelings for him. Because Ino and Tsunade still assumed that she still loved Sasuke. That boy had so defined her young self that now it didn't even occur to those closest to her that she could possibly have moved on…and of course, it wouldn't occur to them in a hundred years that she'd be moving on with a ninja from an enemy village.

It was troubling that young Sakura's obsession with Sasuke had so framed Ino's perception of her that, even in the face of a myriad of hints in Kimimaro's memories, she did not for one second fathom that something else was going on than a one-sided infatuation. Given that Sakura hadn't quite finished wrestling with her own feelings, she glad to keep it that way for now.

"Yes," said Sakura, squeezing Ino's hands. There was genuine relief in her voice, though it wasn't there for the reasons that Ino assumed.

"There's another thing you kept from me," said Ino with eyes suddenly full of reproach.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You never told me that this Kaguya boy was, like, stupidly pretty. I mean, look at this," said Ino, holding up her finger dramatically. "I actually cut myself on his cheekbones."

Sakura pulled Ino's hand closer and examined the minuscule injury with an expert eye.

"I'm… pretty sure this is a paper cut," said Sakura, healing it as she spoke.

"Yeah, it is," said Ino. "But I thought it illustrated my point. I know, I know – you prefer dark and broody and crazy. That's too bad, because you'd have this one in the bag if you wanted him…"

Something about this knowledge set the most delicate little butterflies aflutter in Sakura's tummy.

Ino looked at her watch. "The Council's probably started going through that report by now. And Tsunade, too – I'm not sure how she's going to take this…"

"She already kind of – figured it out," said Sakura. "During the Council meeting, apparently the way he was looking at me, it was blatant. I mean, _I_ didn't think so, but…"

"Oh, good," said Ino with a little sigh. "I had to keep the report factual but I didn't know if I should be like, scared of getting you into trouble or whatever…"

"No," said Sakura. "It's not like I was withholding that on purpose. I knew that he _liked_ me, and that was awkward and weird enough, so I didn't want to tell either of you, but I didn't realize that it might be… more than that."

" _So much more_ ," said Ino.

"God. Apparently everyone knows it except me, and I'm an oblivious idiot."

"You _are_ an oblivious idiot," agreed Ino. "You're also beautiful, so I forgive you. But – what the hell are you going to do? It's sickeningly sweet, what he feels for you, except he's like, an enemy? Except, well, he's not working for Orochimaru anymore, and we _know_ that now, so is he still an enemy? I'm confused."

"Me too," said Sakura sincerely.

"Speaking of oblivious," said Ino, suddenly remembering something. "Did you know that Kabuto was creeping on you? He was on the edge of almost all of Kimimaro's memories, and he'd be watching you, like, all the time, whenever your back was turned. It gave me the heebie-jeebies. I wanted to smack him…"

Sakura grimaced; this was unsurprising. "I did get that feeling. But he was always nice to me, honestly. He never did anything except – well, except give me the creeps from time to time… and he negotiated my release with Orochimaru, and he also got me safe home, so…"

"Mm," said Ino. "Kimimaro hated him by the end. There was this one memory, when he found out that Kabuto had drugged you… I didn't get to see much of it but it was intense, he was full of rage, I thought he was going to kill Kabuto. He kept his cool, but damn…"

Ino trailed off and stretched. "Okay. I need to eat something, then I need to shower, then I need to sleep for a week, and I will kill anyone who wakes me up."

"I'll come eat with you," said Sakura, finding herself suddenly starving as the week's anxiety gave way to relief. "What about that hoity-toity vegetarian place? You like their salad bowls…"

"I dunno, I heard you were experimenting with nutritional suppositories," said Ino. "Let's try those."

"Ew, Ino."

"It was _your_ idea…!"

VVV

Sakura got home late that night, stomach full of food and head full of more of Ino's anecdotes about Kimimaro.

She dropped off her things in an untidy heap at the front door and made for her bedroom. In all of this, some (idiot) part of her thrilled at the confirmation that Kimimaro had very, very strong feelings for her. Every little glimpse that Ino shared with her gave her renewed butterflies, because she hadn't understood quite how deeply and fiercely his affection for her ran, but now she knew, and it was doing funny things to her. (There she went, blushing again as she thought about it…)

However – some other part recoiled in fear at this realization, because she didn't want to hurt him, and she didn't know if she could ever reciprocate those powerful feelings. Because love – love was a mistake that she wasn't willing to make again.

But perhaps she would never have to hurt him – perhaps they could remain indefinitely in this strange stalemate of mutual attraction that neither of them dared do anything about, because she was too much of a coward to do otherwise and he didn't know enough to do more.

God, she was confused. As she fought to stabilize the roiling mess of her own emotions, she briefly envied Kimimaro the strength, clarity, and simplicity of his. Because she didn't know what she felt for him, or what the hell she wanted…

Sakura stared at herself in the mirror as she undressed. Perhaps she ought to ask Ino to shuffle around in her head and tell her what she found. She could just see herself asking her – hey, Ino, can you like, poke around my brain and tell me what the hell I'm feeling for Kimimaro, because I don't have a damn clue, do I just like him or _like_ like him or…?

She thought of those random dates and occasional one-night stands she'd had just because she wanted to be held (and then felt gross about after), all the men she'd led on and then turned down because they weren't _right_ … and all she knew was that hadn't seen Kimimaro for almost two years and in those years she hadn't found a single person to connect with on anything near the same level as she had with him. She hadn't found anyone whose mere presence thrilled her, whose voice she wanted to listen to for hours, whose touches she missed badly.

This probably meant something. No, it definitely meant something, but she was too scared to inspect the something more closely, because what if, _what if_ …

She wouldn't allow herself to be hurt again. Not when her first and only foray into love had resulted in a disaster of such spectacular proportions for her emotionally – she had given a boy everything there was to give and then lingered over him for years, to the point where even those closest to her couldn't even conceive of the possibility that she no longer loved that boy. Even Tsunade, who knew her so well, was blind to the possibility that Sakura might have moved on, and Ino, who could read her like no-one else, couldn't see the writing on the wall, even when the man in question's memories were laid out in front of her with enough incriminating details, if she'd only notice them…

Sakura bit her lip anxiously. Now she knew that Kimimaro loved her. And, with Intel's report in the hands of the Council and the Hokage – soon, all of the Leaf's decision-makers would know it too.

In a way, this was a good thing: Intel had written a clean report, which meant that the Council wouldn't be – she hoped – so hell-bent on treating Kimimaro like a bomb ready to go off, now that they would have confirmation that he truly had severed his ties with Orochimaru, that his motivations were pure, that he was there of his own volition, that he had told the truth about everything, that their suspicions of a trap or some other machination were unfounded…

But where the hell was that going to leave them? Where did they go from here? What the hell were they going to do with Kimimaro – a man who was now essentially a missing-nin from another village?

Would they execute him, just to spite Orochimaru and take away his ace in the hole? That seemed unlikely after Councilwoman Utatane's intervention at the last meeting. And, besides – the Leaf was not that barbaric, not when they had concrete proof that he wasn't part of some larger nefarious plan.

But then – what? Would they keep him locked up, because he was both a risky asset and a valuable one? That seemed much more likely. The thought made Sakura feel ill – Kimimaro had spent his childhood years locked up because he was both dangerous and highly prized; he absolutely didn't deserve more of that.

Ino, in rifling around in his memories, had found some scenes from Kimimaro's earliest childhood, and had mentioned them to Sakura over dinner: a dark cavern, bars over the entrance, heartbreaking loneliness _…_ and now, because Sakura had told Kimimaro to trust her and lay down his swords and allow himself to be captured, he was imprisoned again.

At this juncture he had already spent a week in Konoha's cells. And it might be the first of many, many weeks, while the Council debated on what the hell to do with him.

A wave of guilt washed over Sakura. She sank onto the stool in front of her dresser and let her head fall into her hands. Oh, god. She had repaid his trust by getting him captured and incarcerated, and then subjected to the most invasive mental jutsus in existence for days on end, and probably imprisoned indefinitely. And she hadn't been able to visit him, hadn't been allowed to talk to him – what the hell must he be thinking right now? He didn't deserve any of this…

Sakura looked up. In the mirror, her shoulders straightened out of their slump in sudden determination. She needed to get him out of there. She needed to find a way to convince the Council to let him go, she had to come up with some kind of arrangement that they would agree to, to get him out of that cell and those damn manacles…

To make the Council agree to anything, she needed leverage.

Right now, the thing the Council wanted the most was Sasuke.

Therefore, she needed to find Sasuke.

Sakura pulled the stick out of her bun, letting her hair tumble down her shoulders in its extravagance of pink. She studied her reflection; thoughtful green eyes stared back.

She needed to find goddamn Sasuke. But this had been the Leaf's mission – and her personal mantra – for years, and they had found nothing. Why would this be any different – what new element was there, now, to make for a successful search, besides her renewed desperation?

Her gaze fell on the white stick in her hands – the bone senbon that Kimimaro had given her all those years ago.

She looked up. In the mirror, she saw the brightness of an idea light up her eyes.

There _was_ a new element.

…She needed to speak to Tsunade. Right now.

Sakura leapt to her feet, pulled her clothing back on and left her apartment at a sprint, closely followed by six ANBU shadows who were probably wondering what the hell she was up to at this time of the night.

It was one in the morning by the time she arrived at Konoha's town centre. The door to the Hokage's quarters was heavily guarded, of course, and the guards were not enthused by the idea of waking up Tsunade at this hour of the night, not with that thunderous temper of hers.

But Sakura was known to them, and so too was _her_ temper. So it only took three minutes of insisting that she be let in for them to give way – and it helped that her frown almost perfectly mirrored Tsunade's when she was about to smash something.

She knocked on Tsunade's door until she heard the shuffle of sleepy footsteps on the other side.

Tsunade opened the door and peered out with puffy eyes and mussed-up hair.

"Wow," said Sakura by way of greeting upon seeing Tsunade's unsexy flannels. "We need to get you better pyjamas."

She was lucky; Tsunade was not quite awake enough yet to blow a fuse.

"Come in, you terrible child," said Tsunade.

Sakura bit her lip to keep from laughing as she watched the great Tsunade, legendary sannin, Hokage of the Hidden Leaf, shuffle away and trip on a slipper.

"This had better be good," said Tsunade.

"It _is_ good," said Sakura, following her in. "I'm _brilliant_. I need you to grant me permission to speak with Kimimaro, and I'll tell you why…"

VVV


	19. Chapter 19

The next morning, armed with a scrawled note of permission in Tsunade's half-asleep hand, Sakura showed up at the maximum security cellblock where Kimimaro was being held and barged her way through the guards, who irritated her beyond belief by being slow and confused because they'd been told no visitors for that prisoner, miss, and no exceptions…

Sakura, momentarily channeling her mentor, slapped the note onto the desk and told them to go check with the Hokage if they'd like to verify that it was legitimate; she had far more pressing business to attend to than dealing with their incompetence.

She picked the likeliest-looking guard (young, nervous, slightly sweaty) to be her escort.

"You," she said, pointing at him. "While your colleagues figure out whether or not they want to lose their jobs, take me to the Kaguya."

She swept by him and he was drawn irresistibly into her wake. He cast a worried look back at his fellows, who raised their shoulders in helpless shrugs.

Two stories down, as they approached the depths of maximum security, Sakura and the sweaty guard started running into ANBU operatives skulking in the shadows. Their colleagues above ground, who had trailed Sakura all the way here, must've already informed them of her arrival and the Hokage's assent, because they gave her no trouble as she passed. Instead, they stood back and gave her respectful nods from behind their masks, which seemed to make the guard even more afraid of her.

"The Kaguya guy is through here," said the guard as they reached a massive steel door several stories underground. "He's the only one we got in level five right now…"

Two keys and a chakra-recognition sensor were required to get this deep into the prison. Sakura stepped through the door to find a low hallway. Flickering fluorescent lights barely provided enough illumination to see down here and the air was heavy with damp.

"Wait outside," said Sakura to the guard.

"But I'm not supposed to–"

"The matters I'm going to discuss with him are highly confidential – and way above your pay grade," said Sakura. "Wait outside."

He hesitated only another moment before tucking tail and turning to the door. "Yes, miss. But please – visits at level five are limited to 15 minutes. I don't want to get into trouble…"

Sakura nodded as she reflected that that this channel-Tsunade thing had to date been a wildly successful experiment.

She made her way down the corridor, past empty cells on either side, until she reached one that wasn't empty: one where a figure in white was seated against the thick iron bars.

Her breath caught in her throat. She approached, worried, for a moment, because Kimimaro should have detected her by now and he wasn't moving… but when she got close enough, she found that he was asleep, curled sideways against the bars, his cuffed hands lying in his lap.

There was exhaustion written all over his pale features; his red-lined eyes were now underscored even more deeply by circles of blue-black. His fine brows were drawn into a slight frown as he slept and his face seemed thin to Sakura, thinner than she remembered, probably from untold numbers of days travelling to her. And this had been a hellish week for him, of relentless interrogations and ceaseless mind-invasions, and it was all her fault…

Guilt wracked her anew, fresh and painful at the sight of his beautiful face so drained and so lifeless. She dropped to the floor and sat as close to him as she could so that only the bars at their shoulders and knees separated them. And to her, right now, they were nothing, those bars of mere iron – nothing compared to the separation of distance and time that they'd endured. Now, at last, she could see him, talk to him, touch him…

The warmth of her fingers on his forearm made him stir. His eyes opened, almost luminous in the penumbra.

"Hey," said Sakura.

Kimimaro stared at her in wonder, as though she was some kind of apparition.

"How are you? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

He didn't answer; her presence appeared to have shocked him into silence.

"Kimimaro…?"

Her voice speaking his name was what it took to pull him out of his stupor. He shook his head as if to clear it, then looked down at her in a kind of dazed fascination, at where her braid edged between the bars and tickled his white-clad shoulder, at where her hand was threaded through the iron to rest on his arm.

"…Am I the one dreaming, now?" he breathed.

"I don't know," said Sakura. "Is it a good one?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro. "Because you are in it."

God, he did stupid things to her, with his sweetness and his sincerity. And now she was smiling, a real smile, the first that had crossed her face in a long time. He was dazzled by it; those green eyes full of unsaid things told her that, right now, she was the most stunning creature he had ever seen.

She could feel the solid warmth of his shoulder against hers, of his side against hers, of his hip against hers – that lovely contact that they had both missed dearly and that made both of their hearts beat faster.

She leaned into him and he leaned into her with a barely-breathed sigh, and they were together, mostly, save for these intersections of cold iron between them. She _could_ do something about those, of course – she was unfettered by chakra-sapping cuffs, she could bend those bars open now, if she wanted to – but that would lead to trouble for the both of them. She would get him out of here the right way.

But, until then… Sakura slipped her hand further between the bars and reached for him. He put his hand over hers, his manacles jangling as he did so, and closed his eyes, and rested his head against the bars, and cherished the touch.

She pressed herself against the bars. She could feel his breath against her cheek; they were so close, so beautifully close. She drew her fingers back and forth in little lines along his forearm, feeling the sparse white hairs there and the tautness of the muscle beneath. He sank into a reverie, his lips parted, his breathing even slower than when he'd been asleep.

It gave her time to find her words.

"I'm sorry," said Sakura. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. They wouldn't let me even send you a message. And I'm so sorry for what you had to go through this week, because of me…"

Kimimaro lifted his head. "Do not apologize."

"It makes me feel better."

"I knew that you would come."

The trust there made her heart want to break. He saw her look down, open and close her mouth, falter.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You trust me so much," said Sakura, unable to look at him. "It scares me."

"Why?"

She hesitated before answering. "I'm not sure I deserve the faith of someone as – as sweet and trusting and _good_ as you…"

"I am not sure that I am all of those things," said Kimimaro.

Sakura glanced up to see that a half-smile had lifted the corner of his mouth, briefly, and then just as quickly disappeared.

"I thought you trusted me," said Sakura with a little smirk of her own.

Kimimaro grew grave. "Very well. I am sweet. And trusting. And _good_."

"That's right," said Sakura.

She settled against the bars a little more closely and spoke in a voice low enough that the guard wouldn't hear. "Listen – I think I can find a way out of this…"

(It was delightful, this secret-talk, because it meant that she could whisper to him and feel his hair against her cheek and see goosebumps rise along his forearm when she accidentally brushed her mouth against his ear…)

"I'm going to find good way, a lawful way, to get you out, one that won't make you a missing-nin for the rest of your life…"

She sat back and shook her head: she was getting ahead of herself here. "But that's phase two. That's later. Right now, we're in phase one – I want to get you out of this prison. And out of those damn manacles."

"Oh," said Kimimaro, looking down at the cuffs. "Thank you. I do not like them."

"I know – they stop your chakra from flowing down its proper paths. It's unnatural. But it's also a simple way of keeping shinobi under control, especially ones like you who could probably take out half the ANBU in this building otherwise…"

Kimimaro inclined his head in acknowledgement, which made Sakura smile. He didn't do the false modesty thing.

"So… I have an idea," continued Sakura (more whispers; more goosebumps). "Well – it's more like a theory right now. Based on the way you used that bone senbon of yours as a homing device to find me."

Kimimaro's clear green eyes found hers and he waited for her to continue.

"Is there a – a _chance_ that somewhere, in your hundreds of fights with Sasuke over the years, you might not have left a little piece of one of your blades inside him?"

"My blades do not break," said Kimimaro in his even voice, but accompanied with a stare-down signifying his offense that she would even suggest such a thing.

"Well okay – not a blade, maybe, but some other bone shard… or one of your bullets, or a bit of a senbon, or anything like that?"

Silence fell as Kimimaro thought about her question.

"There may be," he said at length.

Sakura made an effort to keep herself calm, though she wanted to bounce with excitement, because they were so close to unlocking a fantastic possibility, here…

"So – let's say there was," said Sakura. "That thing you did, to find me, using that bone senbon – could you do it on some piece of your bones that's in Sasuke?"

Kimimaro stared at her. His eyes were the only expressive thing about him and she was grateful for that, at least, because through them she was aware of a distant anger, a sudden unhappiness.

"You want me to find the Uchiha?"

"Yes."

"He wants to kill you."

"I know," said Sakura. "But if we can get to him before Orochimaru, we can bring him here, and have that damn seal excised, and save him from himself and from being used by Orochimaru…"

"He wants to be used."

"Yes, but – so did you," said Sakura. "The cursed seals do dark things to people's minds. It's a testament to how – how good you are, that, even with the seal, you were still a decent person, you didn't go all homicidal like him…"

"He wants to kill his brother."

"I know."

"He needs Orochimaru's power to do this."

"He thinks he does," said Sakura. "But that's beside the point, that's a bridge we can cross if and when we find him…"

Kimimaro was silent and reticent – unusually reticent, even for Kimimaro.

Sakura studied his profile and prompted him gently. "So – so could you do it?"

She saw him swallow. He turned away from her before he spoke his next toneless words.

"If you wish for me to find him, then. I will."

Sakura knew him too well by now not to know that something was bothering him. She reached for his hand.

"Kimimaro? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Kimimaro, avoiding her gaze.

"You're an awful liar," said Sakura with a small smile.

Kimimaro watched her index finger run lightly over his knuckles.

"He wants to kill you. I do not like this. And…"

"And…?"

Kimimaro took a breath, looked away again. "And. Kabuto said that you love him. I also do not like this."

His manacles jangled as he put his hand on top of hers and squeezed it. "But. I will do it."

Though his words were bitter, his touch was as gentle as ever.

As for Sakura, her blood began a slow simmer upon hearing this; she was getting goddamn sick and tired of everyone apparently knowing who she loved when she didn't even know herself.

Kimimaro was still looking away from her, staring at the floor, wrestling with that bitterness and not wanting her to see it.

Sakura pushed herself to her knees, passed her free hand through the bars, and turned his face towards her.

" _Listen to me_ ," she said, shocking him with the ferocity of her tone. "Kabuto is a clueless moron. And he's _wrong_."

Kimimaro studied her in silence: her eyes jewel-bright in the dimness, her cheeks flushed with annoyance.

As for Sakura, she was horrified and afraid of how – despite his hurt and his confusion – he was so willing to sacrifice his own happiness to make her happy, so willing that he'd go and fetch her the man that he thought she loved, even if he himself loved her…

He was an idiot. And also, wonderful. And she didn't deserve him.

"Kabuto is wrong?" repeated Kimimaro.

"Yes," said Sakura. " _And_ a clueless moron. Don't forget that part."

She was still clasping his chin in her hand. She felt his cheek twitch in perhaps the world's briefest smile. Something in the set of his shoulders relaxed.

"Then I will do it," said Kimimaro. "For you."

"Not for me," said Sakura. "It's for you."

One of his eyebrows quirked minutely.

"If we play our cards right, we can use this to negotiate your release," said Sakura. "The Council is desperate to find Sasuke. Now they know that you aren't lying, they know that you don't have sketchy ulterior motives – they can trust you. And you're a whole new way of hunting Sasuke down that the Leaf has never had access to."

"Oh."

"I'm going to table this at the next Council meeting to see if they'll play ball–"

The sound of a throat being nervously cleared interrupted Sakura. She turned to see the guard poking his head through the doorway.

"Excuse me, miss? It's been 20 minutes. I'm going to get in trouble…"

Sakura regained her feet and dusted herself off; Tsunade-channeling or not, she didn't want the poor guard getting fired on her account. "Yes, of course. I'll be right there."

Kimimaro rose to his feet as well, understanding that their brief time together was over and regarding her with a painful mixture of longing and melancholy.

"So just – just know that I'm working on this, okay?" said Sakura. "You're not going to be here for much longer, not if I have anything to do with it."

"Yes."

Sakura peered into the dim cell, at the bunk in the corner with its thin mattress, the screened-off area in the back with a commode and rudimentary shower. "Are you comfortable down here? Are they feeding you enough?"

"Yes."

"Miss?" came the guard's anxious voice again. " _Please?_ "

Why did it feel so painful to leave, why did it feel so much like she was tearing away from something very important to her?

"I have to go," said Sakura, feeling her throat tightening and fighting it. "I'll be back soon. I promise. Okay? I _promise_."

As she turned away from him to make her way down the corridor, she heard something clang behind her. Kimimaro had unconsciously reached out towards her as she turned and hit his heavy manacles against the bars.

His pale figure was the only bright thing in this dark place, and so very alone; alone in his cell, alone in this empty hallway, alone in this village.

Sakura's heart wrenched: as a child, he'd endured imprisonment that he didn't deserve because his power was frightening and he was understood as a weapon, an asset, and nothing more. And now he was back behind bars for much the same reasons – and this second imprisonment was all her fault.

She ran back towards him and reached through the bars.

"I _will_ set you free," she said, squeezing his fingers.

He looked down at her with an almost-smile.

And his eyes told her that she already had.

The guard called again and, with great reluctance, Sakura let go of Kimimaro's hands and walked away. The steel door shut heavily behind her and she hated it; it reminded her of a tomb.

If the Council didn't let him out soon, she was breaking him out herself.

VVV

_But, until then… Sakura slipped her hand further between the bars and reached for him. He put his hand over hers, his manacles jangling as he did so, and closed his eyes, and rested his head against the bars, and cherished the touch._

(Art by the stunning maarlavhenas at tumblr)


	20. Chapter 20

Thankfully, Sakura was prevented from having to take drastic and illegal measures to free Kimimaro. She was granted an audience before the Council at their next meeting and it seemed that, after having read Intel's account, they were quite positively disposed towards the man, even subjecting Sakura to some cheesy off-the-record ribbing for being the unwitting subject of his affections.

On the record, Sakura laid out the details of her theory for them.

"If this idea works, it's a thing of genius," said Councilwoman Utatane, inspecting the bone senbon that Sakura had passed around to show them how Kimimaro had tracked her to Konoha.

"And the Kaguya boy has confirmed that he can do it?" asked Councilman Hageru, squinting at the thin object through his glasses.

"He believes he can," said Sakura. "If there's any bone fragment in Sasuke's system – which there has to be, given how many times they fought each other – then Kimimaro thinks he'll be able to track him."

"If he were to succeed, this would be a tour de force for Konoha," said Councilwoman Utatane. "We could have them both in our hands, both of Orochimaru's prized shinobi."

"And the Sharingan will not be lost to the Leaf forever, as we had feared," quivered Hageru. "This is an excellent turn of events…"

"However. If we are successful in this endeavor, there will be reprisals on the part of Orochimaru," said Mitokado. "We must anticipate this."

Tsunade perked right up at this suggestion, eager as always at the prospect of a confrontation with Orochimaru. "He's welcome to try. According to Intel, the Sound's strength has been vastly diminished since the fire – there's less than a dozen of them left and he's lost his two strongest ninja in Kimimaro and Sasuke."

"He'll plot something, of course," continued Tsunade, propping her chin into her hand and staring at the ceiling. "I certainly hope he does, or I'll be sorely disappointed. I have some scores to settle with him. Taking away his dream vessels is a good start, but it's only the beginning…"

The Council chamber fell into a hush as everyone watched the Fifth get lost in some violent daydream or other.

Councilwoman Furui cleared her throat politely. "Perhaps – perhaps we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves. First, the Kaguya must find Sasuke."

"Yes," said Mitokado. He turned to Sakura. "This brings me to my next question. The Kaguya does not have many reasons to do the Leaf any favours."

Sakura sat up straighter; the easy part was over and the tricky part was about to begin.

"When you approached him about this idea, did he give any indication of what he wished for in exchange?" asked Mitokado. "What is it that he wants? Money?"

"No," said Sakura. "It's his freedom."

This was not quite the truth – Kimimaro would do it just because Sakura had asked him to. But this was an opportunity to get him the hell out of that jail, and so Sakura had decided to get a little _creative_.

There was a beat of silence as her words were digested. And then all of the Council members started talking at once and absolutely none of them were in favour of this request.

"His _freedom_?"

"We can't set him free. He's too valuable."

"We can't have an asset like him wandering about…"

"His affections for the Haruno girl notwithstanding – how do we know where he'd go next?"

"What if Orochimaru were to capture him again?"

"Yes – we're keeping him _safe_ …"

Sakura let them talk their outrage out since she wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise anyway. Only Tsunade wasn't joining into the general hubbub; she was watching Sakura with those thoughtful hazel eyes of hers.

The commotion died down eventually, with many a head-shake and mutter of disapproval.

"Well," said Tsunade. "I think the outcome of that discussion was clear. Let the record show that the Council has rejected the Kaguya's request."

The Council scribe nodded and scribbled away eagerly.

"He's asking us for something that we cannot give," said Mitokado with a frown as he watched the scribe work.

Councilman Hageru nodded his bald head. "Free, he's a liability to the Leaf."

No-one spoke further for a long moment and the only sounds were the scribe's sharp pen at work.

Sakura rose to her feet. "Alright. I won't take any more of your time, then. I'll let him know. Thank you, councillors, my lady Hokage."

They watched her leave in silence. Then, just when she reached the door–

"Wait."

Before she turned around, Sakura permitted herself a brief smile.

"Yes?" said Sakura, turning to find Councilwoman Utatane staring at the bone senbon that still lay on the table.

"Are we _really_ going to lose such a priceless opportunity to find Sasuke?" asked Utatane.

All eyes were on the senbon now. Silence settled over the room, heavy and uncertain.

"It seems – it seems a terrible waste," said Furui in her quiet way.

Mitokado rubbed at his forehead, visibly torn. "But we cannot set the Kaguya free, you know this…"

Beside him, Hageru dropped his head into his shaky hands and began his perpetual lament about the Sharingan.

"Did we not say, a week ago, that finding Sasuke was our new priority?" asked Tsunade. She gestured to the scribe. "Find me the line and read it out."

There was a flurry of paper as the scribe backtracked hurriedly through dozens of pages. "Special Meeting held March Third on the subject of the capture of Kimimaro Kaguya. Councilman Mitokado made the following statement, to unanimous agreement: _we must pour our not inconsiderable resources into finding the Uchiha boy before Orochimaru does. If there is any possibility that the Hidden Leaf might not lose the Sharingan, this must become our new imperative. We need to call in our allies, get assistance from anywhere we can…"_

"Thank you," said Tsunade.

"Oh, this is stupid. We _must_ take the Kaguya up on this," said Councilwoman Utatane. "Therefore, we must find a middle ground. Haruno – do you have a sense as to whether or not he'd be willing to negotiate?"

Sakura shook her head. "I'm not sure. What did you have in mind?"

Councilwoman Utatane pressed her fingertips together. "Something like a limited release."

Sakura felt her spirits lifting, because this sounded promising – but she was supposed to be a neutral party in this exchange, and so she kept her face serious.

"I can approach him about it, if you'd like. What would the terms of this limited release be?"

"I don't know," said Utatane. "I haven't thought about it. We most certainly can't have him wandering around, free to roam where he wants and disappear if he chooses. But what if we set rules?"

"Oh, yes," nodded Furui. "Limits, a curfew…?"

"What if we confined him to the walls of the village?" asked Mitokado.

All of these suggestions were excellent, in Sakura's opinion, because anything was better than Kimimaro being stuck in that godforsaken cell five stories below ground in those hideous cuffs.

She was about to say yes, that she would certainly approach him about this, when the conversation turned to a direction that she hadn't anticipated.

"All good ideas," said Hageru. "However – if I may – I still do not like the idea of the Kaguya child being unsupervised in our midst. Who will make sure that he keeps to these restrictions?"

"What if we appoint someone to watch him – someone to be responsible for him?" said Utatane. "For our own peace of mind."

"We could have him placed in someone's custody?" suggested Furui.

Hageru nodded. "Perhaps that is the solution. Someone trustworthy. Someone sufficiently strong to hold their own, if anything should happen…"

"Absolutely, it must be one of our own nin, no question…"

"Do you think he'll agree?" asked Furui. "Are we going to vex him with a counter-offer that not only rejects his sole demand, freedom, but also imposes a babysitter on him for the foreseeable future?"

"Fair point," said Councilwoman Utatane, tapping her lip with a forefinger. "Perhaps – perhaps we could sweeten the deal…"

"How?"

"Well – what if we have him placed in the custody of someone that he wouldn't object to. Someone we know he likes quite a bit… hm? Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"… _Oh_ ," said Furui, Hageru and Mitokado.

Sakura blinked and found that the entire Council was staring at her.

"Yes," said Utatane. "Do you think he'd refuse _that_?"

"Not after that report," said Mitokado with a chuckle and a broad wink towards Sakura. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, I think he'd be more than amenable to this."

"He won't say no," said Utatane, studying Sakura with her piercing grey eyes.

"Genius," said Hageru. "The boy will do it, no question, I've never seen such a lovesick soul in all my days…"

"And this way, we get the Uchiha _and_ we keep the Kaguya under our control," said Mitokado. "It's brilliant."

"…And what does Ms. Haruno think of this idea?" asked Furui.

"Um," said Sakura, for lack of an intelligent remark to make, because she hadn't anticipated this turn of events.

"She'll do whatever it takes to get Sasuke back," said Tsunade. "Right, Sakura?"

"…Right," said Sakura.

Tsunade was regarding her with that thoughtful gaze again and Sakura wondered if she wasn't beginning to suspect…

"But – but I need to point out, I can't watch him all the time," said Sakura. "I have a more than full-time job already…"

Councilwoman Utatane waved her hand dismissively. "Details. We'll find alternatives for those times when you can't watch over him. But you must be his primary custodian. It's only for you that he'd agree to this."

Sakura found herself torn; the Council was manipulating this situation to suit them and give themselves a win-win with control over both Kimimaro and, if he was successfully tracked, Sasuke. It felt wrong to Sakura that she was being used as the lure for Kimimaro to agree to this.

However. The alternative was having Kimimaro sit in that cell for even longer until she thought of a better solution. She liked that even less. And – if she was honest with herself – this was probably a perfect arrangement from Kimimaro's perspective. He wanted nothing more than to be with her; she was the reason he had left the Sound and sought out the Leaf.

Sakura gave Councilwoman Utatane a nod.

"So we're in agreement," said Tsunade, turning to the Council members. "Sakura will talk to Kimimaro about our proposal. If he agrees, we'll assemble a squad to help him track Sasuke. They will leave immediately. If Kimimaro is successful, instead of being brought back to Konoha and imprisoned again, he'll be subject to a limited release, confined to the village and placed under Sakura's guardianship. All in favour?"

All of the variously wrinkly and shaky hands of the Council rose.

"And now we just hope that he accepts our counter-offer," said Councilwoman Utatane. "Haruno – bat your eyelashes as you tell him about it, won't you? We need him to say yes."

Sakura felt her cheeks warm at this remark. "I'll – I'll go tell him about it right away."

"If he accepts," said Tsunade, "tell him he leaves at midnight accompanied by a full squadron. I want them going out under the cover of darkness to keep his presence in the Leaf as quiet as possible."

"Understood," said Sakura. She bowed a small bow before making for the door.

"Wait, dear – I believe this is yours?"

Sakura turned to find Councilwoman Furui holding up the bone senbon.

"Oh – yes, thank you," said Sakura, taking it from her.

"I would not want you to lose it," said Furui. "It seems a useful thing to have."

"Yes," said Councilwoman Utatane with a wry smile. "I'd like a hairpin that summons a handsome shinobi lover to my side, too."

"Wouldn't we all," said Tsunade.

Sakura forced a little laugh and turned away. She felt Tsunade's eyes on her all the way out the door.

VVV


	21. Chapter 21

Sakura's second visit to Kimimaro went considerably more smoothly than the first: word that she was visiting on Council business made its way to the prison before she got there and there was no argument at the gate this time to slow her down. The same shy guard as before led her to maximum security, down past the ANBU operatives in their secret nooks and the sparsely populated cells until they reached level 5, where he took his post outside the heavy steel door.

Sakura all but skipped her way through the threshold, illuminating the dark corridor and its empty cells with the brightness of her mood.

She slowed her steps as she approached Kimimaro's cell. He was facing away from her, drying his hair with a scrap of a towel. He had by all appearances just taken a shower and done some basic laundry: his shirt and pants were hanging to dry and he was wearing dark grey prison-issue boxers.

Her steps faltered as she wondered if she ought to turn around and give him some privacy. It used to be normal to see him wandering around barely dressed – but that was a long time ago now, and he was no longer her patient, so this was probably weird, right?

Weird or not, she had to agree with Councilwoman Utatane as she watched him dry off – he _really_ was a handsome shinobi. Tall and lithe and leanly muscled all over and that butt, would it be inappropriate if she complimented him on that? Yes, obviously it would be… but what if she just told him that his posterior chain muscles looked like they were magnificently well-conditioned (and it was true) and she was proud of him and she would like to check on them, for medical reasons, all the way from the nape of his neck down his back and then a handful of very firm buttocks to complete her examination…?

He would totally let her.

Also, what the _hell_ was wrong with her?

Sakura was mercifully able to shut her slack jaw by the time Kimimaro turned around.

His hair was down, damp, and slightly messy, and he was all shades of pale, pale skin, pale hair, pale lips, except for those eyes of green that lit right up when he saw her.

He had no right to be this pretty. _No. Right._

"Hi," said Sakura breathlessly.

And then she wondered if this was how he felt, when he found her being unexpectedly beautiful – maybe this is what that was like. It made her feel speechless and stupid, altogether alien sensations for someone as articulate and intelligent as she was.

"…I have good news, I think," said Sakura, trying to concentrate, because she had a purpose for coming here, and it wasn't to stare at his chest or the broadness of his shoulders or the way his waist cut in into that lean V that disappeared into his boxers, _V for Very Interesting_ …

Kimimaro approached and Sakura could see that he didn't really care about her news – right now, he cared that his manacles prevented him from getting his hands through the bars and reaching out to her. The cuffs clanged against the iron, loud and unyielding.

She saw his jaw clench in restrained frustration and passed her own hands through the bars to assuage him (and maybe herself).

"I didn't quite get them to agree to set you free," said Sakura. "But I think I got the next best thing."

He was preoccupied by her hands in his but he didn't quite sink into his usual Sakura-impelled reverie. "Oh?"

"The Council wants to negotiate. They have a counter-proposal. If you manage to find Sasuke, they've offered to you a limited release."

"I do not know what that means," said Kimimaro.

This close to him, Sakura could see the slow drip of water from his hair onto his bare shoulders. That was distracting. His voice was distracting. His fingers on her wrists were distracting. Everything about him was distracting. It had been four days since she'd last seen him and apparently that was enough to make her thirst for him like an infatuated idiot and she needed to get a grip.

Sakura blinked hard and refocused for the third time during this brief conversation.

"Well – basically, they'd establish some rules and have someone watching you at all times to make sure you follow them – so you don't go anywhere you're not supposed to and keep to your curfew and any other limits that they set up."

"Oh," said Kimimaro. "This is not _free_."

"I know," said Sakura. "But it's better than the alternative, which is staying here until I figure out something else…"

"I do not like it," said Kimimaro after a moment of silence. "But. You are right."

"Well," said Sakura, biting her lip to prevent herself from smiling, "would you like it more if it was me, who was assigned to watch you?"

He looked up. "You…?"

"Yeah."

"Can this be done?"

"It's what the Council suggested, actually. That you be placed into my custody."

"Oh," said Kimimaro. He searched her eyes for a moment. "If it is you… you need not ask. You must know my answer."

"Hey, it's been a long time since we were last forced to be each other's company. I thought maybe you'd be tired of me and my vitamins and my lectures…"

His grip on her hands tightened. "Never."

And Sakura was unable to hold back that smile.

"You are teasing me, now," said Kimimaro.

"Maybe a bit," said Sakura.

"I will do this," said Kimimaro. "I will find the Uchiha."

"Good. It'll get you out of this pit."

"It will get me lectures and vitamins."

Sakura thought that this might be a joke, only, he never really joked…

He was distracted by her hands again. A few droplets of water had dripped from his hair onto her palms where he held them before him. He erased the droplets with his thumbs and now it was Sakura who felt herself almost falling into a happy floaty trance.

"I have to tell you," said Sakura, coming back to reality with some effort, "I feel like the Council is using me to get you to do what they want."

"…Perhaps," said Kimimaro tilting his head at her. "But. It is also what I want."

This was a fair point. Sakura acknowledged it with a nod. "Well then, you have a shared purpose. This should work out."

She turned her attention to their joined hands. She pushed her fingers into the small gap between his wrists and the manacles. She could feel a sudden deadness in her fingertips where they hooked under the metal; the manacles' chakra-blocking properties began there, on the underside, where potent jutsus were engraved.

"These will be coming off soon," she said, tugging at the metal in annoyance. "You're to leave at midnight. The Hokage is assigning a full team to you, to support you on this mission. And if you find Sasuke, they'll bring you back here – back to me, and you won't be imprisoned again…"

"I will find him," said Kimimaro.

"How does it even work, this tracking thing?" asked Sakura. "How do you know where to go?"

"It is a feeling," said Kimimaro.

"A feeling? Like an instinct, or…?"

Kimimaro seemed to be searching for words to explain. "No matter how dark it is, you know where your hands are, and where your feet are."

"Yes."

"It is like that."

"Huh," said Sakura. "Those bones really are a part of you. This is so _cool_ …"

Kimimaro drew his eyebrows together in the slightest frown. "However. It is not easy, when the pieces are so small."

"So right now, do you kind of know where he is?"

"No. I do not know where," said Kimimaro. "But I think I know the direction."

He gestured towards the eastern corner of his cell. "There. Many days away, probably."

"You amaze me," said Sakura. "Did Orochimaru know that you could do this?"

"No," said Kimimaro.

"Why not?"

"He wanted a fighter, not a tracker," said Kimimaro. "It did not come up. Perhaps I would have shown him, in later days – but then, my sickness came, and so."

"Ah."

"You know the rest of that story," said Kimimaro.

"Yes," said Sakura.

"That story would have ended years ago," said Kimimaro, his hands warm on hers. "If not for you."

"I'm so glad it didn't," said Sakura, squeezing his fingers for added sincerity.

He took a step closer and so did she, until they were as close together as they could possibly be with him in his cell. Kimimaro leaned his forehead against the bars. "The old woman was right. I am grateful. And – other things…"

Silence fell. He looked down at their hands and left that sentence hanging unfinished. And Sakura's heart beat a little faster, and she was both thankful that those bars were there, and angry at them, which was fantastically confusing.

She stared at his chest, where little droplets glimmered in the dimness and made her want to reach out and trace her fingers along that pale skin…

"I should go," said Sakura at length, when the unspoken things became too much to bear. "I'll go see about the preparations for tonight."

He nodded, once, but it was her who had to pull her hands away.

VVV

Half an hour later, Sakura knocked on the door to Tsunade's office.

"No," said Tsunade through the door.

"But it's me," said Sakura.

"You can only come in if you have good news for me," came Tsunade's voice. "I've dealt with enough bullshit today…"

"It _is_ good news," said Sakura, coming in and perching herself on her usual chair. "He accepted."

Tsunade didn't look up from her writing. "Good. I mean, it would've surprised me if he didn't – because, you know, he loves you and all."

Sakura blinked at her.

"Yeah," said Tsunade, "I figured it would be unprofessional if I said I told you so in front of the Council. So this is me telling you I told you so."

"Okay, okay. You were right," said Sakura with a sigh.

"I'm always right," said Tsunade.

 _Almost always_ , thought Sakura.

"… Except when I'm wrong," said Tsunade.

She looked up from her writing at last and folded her hands in front of her.

"So he's going to find Sasuke for you, this Kimimaro kid."

"Yes."

"You must be happy."

"Yes, of course I am…"

"We'll pull that seal from him and see if there's any of the old Sasuke left."

"There will be," said Sakura.

"Mm. It'll take a while, but yes – he's there, somewhere, the boy you once loved."

Sakura noted Tsunade's use of the past tense, there, and was unsure if this was a deliberate thing or not. She shrugged her shoulders noncommittally, not quite daring to clarify.

"And then Sasuke is back. And then what?" asked Tsunade.

Unsure where she was going with this, Sakura gave her a careful answer: "Orochimaru doesn't get a ridiculously powerful new body. And Konoha doesn't lose the Sharingan. The Leaf stays safe."

"I'm asking about you, Sakura. Not the Leaf."

Sakura looked at the desk, knocked off-kilter again and, once again, uncertain.

"So then… what?" prompted Tsunade again. "You and Sasuke live happily ever after?"

Sakura hated being the subject of Tsunade's study like this, especially when she didn't understand her angle.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "It's been almost ten years and… and he never loved me back."

"Mm. The universe is cruel, isn't it?" said Tsunade, propping her chin on her hands and contemplating Sakura. "You wanted the love of a man with a shattered childhood, a last heir of a disappearing bloodline, a prodigy… and you got it."

Tsunade leaned back. "Only… it's the wrong man."

Sakura looked up; she hadn't thought about it in those terms before. So many nights spent dreaming about a broken boy who might one day love her and the chance to heal him – and she had that, now, Tsunade was right. Only it was Kimimaro Kaguya, not Sasuke Uchiha.

"You do know how to pick 'em," said Tsunade. "What do you do, walk around and choose the most broken ones possible?"

Sakura shook her head. "I didn't ask for this."

"Mm. No wonder you went into medicine, you'd have to have a penchant for fixing things with this kind of habit…"

"Ugh," said Sakura, dropping her face into her hands.

Tsunade regarded her quietly for a few moments.

"You going to fix Kimimaro?"

Sakura looked up. "How do you mean? I already healed him…"

Still those pensive eyes were on her. "Of course. You're right."

Tsunade turned her attention to the papers in front of her. Sakura watched her, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but Tsunade very deliberately changed the subject.

"About tonight. I just finished putting together the team," said Tsunade. "We've got a lot of people out on missions already, but it's a good squad."

"Oh?" said Sakura, leaning forwards and reading the names upside down. She could see Kakashi there, as well as Naruto, Shikamaru, Kiba, Yamato, Gai, Neji, Ino…

"I'm on medic duty, I guess?" said Sakura, not seeing herself mentioned.

"No, actually – that's going to be Ino."

"So where do you want me? Close combat specialist?"

"No – Naruto, Gai, Neji and Kiba have that amply covered," said Tsunade.

"So you want me there as general support, or…?"

Tsunade didn't answer her, instead calling for Shizune, who arrived within seconds.

"Shizune. Take this – my list for the Uchiha retrieval team. See that they're at the gate at midnight. Get them a full set of supplies; we have no idea how long they'll be gone. And keep this strictly under wraps – if Orochimaru has ears in Konoha, I don't want him knowing of this."

"Right away," said Shizune with a bow.

As Shizune trotted out with a list that very much did not include her, it finally dawned on Sakura that she wasn't going.

"Tsunade. You _can't_ not include me."

"Can't I?" said Tsunade, turning her attention to some paperwork in front of her. "I believe I just did."

"But – but how can you send Kakashi and Naruto to get him, and not _me_? We're Team Seven!"

Tsunade looked up. "Because. I'm sending out a squad accompanied by Orochimaru's number one, to go and fetch his number two. There is no other mission in the world that would attract his attention as much as this one. And if he were to find out and interfere, and get his hands on you again…"

"You _can't_ be serious…"

"I've never been more serious in my life," said Tsunade. "Kakashi and Naruto – if anything went wrong – wouldn't suffer as much as you would if you got caught. It would've been bad enough, before – but now? Now Kimimaro – the one that he did so much to keep alive, the apple of his eye, the body that would fulfill all of his hopes and dreams – has left him. For _you_."

Tsunade looked grim, perhaps more grim than Sakura had ever seen her. "You don't know Orochimaru like I do. You don't know his fury. The others, he'd kill – and that's a reality that they're aware of, they're shinobi, death is part of the life they've chosen. But you… you took Orochimaru's plan and shattered it into a million pieces. His most devoted nin, his pathway to ultimate power, ran off to be with you. You, he'd torture in the most vile, sick way possible, and send me the ashes, after…"

Tsunade shook her head. "You aren't going. Clear?"

And Sakura, who had been gearing up for a protracted argument, felt herself grow pale, and wisely decided to shut up. Because she hadn't quite explored the full consequences here, the full brunt of Orochimaru's wrath – but obviously, Tsunade had.

"Understood," said Sakura in a small voice.

"Good," said Tsunade. Some of the stiffness left her shoulders. "You can see them off at the gate tonight. But you sure as hell aren't going through it."

VVV

Midnight found Sakura dashing for the gate: she had been held back at the General by a difficult (and inconveniently-timed) labour that had finally resolved itself with the birth of a healthy baby.

It was a cold spring night; along the rooftops on either side of Sakura the six ANBU shadows trailing her were themselves trailed by wisps of cloudy breath as they sprinted to keep up with her.

A few blocks into her run she almost collided into Tsunade turning a corner.

"S-sorry, Tsunade," said Sakura. "I didn't realize you'd be seeing them off too…?"

She fell into step next to Tsunade, because Tsunade was far too dignified to dash anywhere.

"That's mostly why I'm here," said Tsunade. "And I want to make sure you don't convince Kakashi to let you go gallivanting off with them."

Sakura shook her head. "You know, thirteen year old me might've been that stupid. Hell, she would've followed Sasuke out all those years ago if he hadn't done her the kindness of knocking her unconscious. But – present me isn't that stupid."

"Good," said Tsunade with a dark look. "I've already buried you once. I don't intend to do it again in this lifetime."

Her words were sobering. Neither she nor Sakura spoke again as they walked down Konoha's silent streets.

Finally, the gate loomed before them, green-black against the whitewashed village wall. In the shadows at its base Sakura could make out a group of ninja geared up to head out: there were Naruto, Shikamaru, Yamato, Neji, Gai, Kiba and Ino. Sakura noticed that Kiba stood as far from Ino as was polite while Akamaru lay at his feet like an enormous furry sphynx.

To Sakura's amusement – and Ino's carefully-masked irritation – the dog's fluffy tail beat the ground wildly whenever Ino so much as glanced in Kiba's direction. Ino shot Sakura an annoyed look when she noticed her smirk.

Off to the side of this main group stood the white figure of Kimimaro flanked by two ANBU operatives. He and Kakashi were having a quiet talk – well, Kakashi was having a quiet talk while Kimimaro stared him down and gave him an occasional nod and not much else.

As she neared, Sakura could see that both men were eyeing each other guardedly. She hoped that they would be able to sort their differences (and that Kimimaro would be able to set aside his distrust of anything remotely Uchiha) for the duration of this mission.

Kimimaro's guards caught sight of Tsunade and sprang to attention, which caused the rest of the group to notice the Hokage's arrival and straighten right up – with the exception of Kimimaro, because it was not the Hokage who caught his attention, it was Sakura.

And then the whole world might as well have stopped existing, because he had eyes only for her. Sakura felt her cheeks flush. Ino was holding back a grin: now it was her turn to be amused and Sakura's turn to be annoyed.

Though most of the group watched Tsunade's approach, a few of the more perceptive among them – Yamato, Neji, and Shikamaru – appeared to notice Kimimaro's sudden fixation but did not seem to know what to make of it. Sakura reflected, as she willed her blush away, that this was good – it meant that Intel's report had not circulated beyond the Council and that this squadron's briefings on that particular aspect of Kimimaro's file had been minimal. Hopefully nonexistent. (Right now, she didn't need everyone knowing that she was the subject of a rogue nin's fierce affections, she was having enough trouble disentangling the issue herself, thank you very much.)

Tsunade's imperious tones rang out and immediately commanded everyone's attention, including any dreamy-eyed Sound fugitives in the crowd:

"I want you out of here in the next five minutes," said Tsunade, "so I'm going to keep this short. You've all been briefed on the mission and the role you're expected to play. You all know what's at stake here. You also all know the risks."

The group before her responded with silent nods.

"For some of you, this is the tenth time you're being sent out on a retrieval mission for Sasuke Uchiha. For some of you, this is the fiftieth."

Sakura caught Naruto's eye and Kakashi's lazy gaze: the three of them were among the latter category.

"For all of you, I hope that this will be the last time," said Tsunade. "Because now, we have an unexpected ally."

She turned towards Kimimaro and gestured his guards to remove his manacles. This was not an uncomplicated affair; it took two of them and a flurry of hand seals to unbind the things.

Everyone's attention was now focused on Kimimaro. Sakura gathered, based on the whispers around her, that tonight was the first time that most of the squadron had actually laid eyes on him: _So that's the guy who's going to lead us to Sasuke… He tracked Sakura from two countries away… yeah, right up to her bedroom window, I heard; she had one of his bones… they say he's fought Sasuke enough that there's bits of his bones in him, he's like a damn Uchiha compass or something… who stabs an Uchiha that many times and lives?_

The manacles fell to the ground with a clang. Sakura could see immediate relief in Kimimaro's body language, in the slow blink as he considered the cuffs at his feet, in the way he opened and closed his hands as his pathways thirstily sucked up his chakra again and diffused it through his system.

There were raw lines in his skin left by the unkind bite of metal and binding jutsus. Sakura found herself resisting the urge to run up to him, green chakra aglow at her fingertips, to heal away the hurt. But even as she watched, his kekkei genkai – finally at peak function, two years after his recovery – was healing the bloody rawness away.

Right, so he didn't need her anymore. Not even remotely. In a matter of seconds, his wrists were perfectly intact.

" _Cool_ ," said Naruto and Kiba together.

"…Indeed," said Tsunade, who had also watched the phenomenon with interest, to the point where she seemed to have lost her train of thought. "So – so this is Kimimaro Kaguya. You've been given a rundown of his abilities. Of chief interest to us is the fact that he can trace Sasuke in ways that none of our trackers can."

"I know that some of you have fought against him before," she continued with a look at Naruto. "And I know that, for all of you, working with a missing-nin from the Sound is going to be a – a _peculiar_ thing. However. Keep in mind that he has been thoroughly interrogated by Intel. They've indicated that his motivations are genuine and that he can be trusted."

"Confirmed," said Ino with a serious nod. "He's clean. Without a shadow of a doubt."

All of those present knew what an 'interrogation' by Ino entailed – that she ran people's' minds through the ringer until every dark corner had been exposed, until every plot and hope and machination had been laid bare, until there were no secrets left. Shikamaru turned his face to the ground and, in the darkness, Sakura saw him wince sympathetically.

"You are therefore to treat him as a squadmate and ally," said Tsunade, "as you would any other Leaf ninja. Understood?"

There was a general ripple of acquiescence through the squadron. A half-dozen curious pairs of eyes lingered on Kimimaro, who stood stock-still and expressionless as ever.

"So," continued Tsunade. "Kakashi is your lead on this mission. If Kakashi falls, Shikamaru is your second-in-command."

Silent nods were Tsunade's only response.

"Don't fail me," said Tsunade.

Sakura looked at all of the shinobi gathered there in the night, united by this one final push to bring Sasuke back – their weapons honed, their eyes bright with determination – and her heart swelled for this little village hidden in the leaves.

It was Naruto, of course, who broke up the seriousness of the moment. He flashed Tsunade a wide fox-grin.

"Nah, we'll find him," he said, and sidled up to Kimimaro. "I got my GPS right here."

Kimimaro raised an eyebrow when he understood that it was he who was being thus referred to. Then he pinned Naruto with a supremely unimpressed stare which, typically, went unheeded by Naruto – who proceeded to ask if the twin markings on Kimimaro's forehead were on/off buttons and whether or not he could press them.

Sakura saw Kimimaro's jaw clench in restrained annoyance. She bit back a laugh, wondering how long it would be before Naruto aggravated him enough for them to have a tussle.

Kakashi appeared to be thinking along the same lines. He gestured the group to move out and, as he passed Tsunade, asked her in a low whisper if it was okay for Naruto to get killed, or if he'd get in trouble for it. (And Tsunade whispered back, no, it would be fine, it would be his fault for antagonizing the GPS.)

So the gate was pulled open and the newest – and hopefully last ever – Sasuke Uchiha retrieval squad departed. Sakura wrapped her arms around herself and watched them go, wishing that she could've been a part of it. But Tsunade's presence at her side reminded her of the dangerous _what ifs_ that worried the Hokage and, truth be told, Sakura did not want to be returned to her in a little satchel of ashes…

"Impressive healing on that kid," said Tsunade as they watched them go.

"Yeah."

"Completely involuntary?"

"As far as I can tell," said Sakura. "I've never seen that before, though, that kind of speed. I guess Kimimaro's bloodline limit is at peak function now, probably the best it's ever been. And I…"

Sakura trailed off and fiddled with the zipper on her jacket.

"You what?"

"I don't know," said Sakura, unguarded for a moment. "It made me feel weirdly useless."

Tsunade turned to her. "Really."

"You're getting that look like you're about to give me a lecture."

"I ought to. You think you can't be useful to him unless you're healing him? You're useful to him – _valuable_ to him – in ways far beyond that…"

"You're right," said Sakura. (Because she didn't want to explain that healing had been the basis of so much of their relationship, that having him as her patient had been a precious experience, that making him better had made them so close, and now, he didn't need her for any of that…)

"No I'm not," said Tsunade, studying her in the dark. "Not quite. But you won't tell me how I'm wrong."

"It's complicated," said Sakura.

"Yes," said Tsunade. "I'm beginning to understand that."

Silence fell between them. Through the slowly closing gate, the green-clad Leaf shinobi were fading into the trees. Then only Kimimaro was visible, a figure of white against the midnight-green forest. He paused and turned to look at Sakura once before continuing.

Tsunade muttered some threat at the retreating group under her breath, to all come back safe _or else_ …

And Sakura watched Kimimaro disappear from sight and found that her heart ached with worry and something else, and she thought about Tsunade's words about the fickleness of the universe and how it had lined up for her exactly what she had wanted.

Yes, she had gotten her prodigy, her damaged boy, her genius, last-of-his-name, only…

Only it was Kimimaro Kaguya, not Sasuke Uchiha. And thus, somehow, she had simultaneously received just what she had wished for and its exact antipode. She had dreamed of a blood-red gaze and had gotten life-green, longed for raven hair and gotten white. She had wanted the genjutsu virtuoso and got the taijutsu master; she had wished for the seal of heaven and got the earth; she had wanted the one who was vengeful and angry and received one that was kind and gentle beyond words…

She had wished for the one who didn't love her and got the one that did.

VVV

_**To be continued...** _


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eternal gratitude to Renaerys for the beta read (& for her patience with my semicolon abuse and overeager breathless run-ons). Any remaining grammatical and orthographical oddities are mine.
> 
> Enjoy!

 To Sakura, the days and weeks that followed the squadron's departure were unbearably long. Not only did the mission and its outcome make her anxious, but having Ino, Naruto and Kakashi gone left a void in her life which wasn't quite fillable by anyone else. (And the void that Kimimaro left – well, that was one of a completely different, achy kind that left her both melancholic and bewildered.)

She immersed herself in her work because nothing made hours pass faster than dealing with exciting new illnesses and injuries at the hospital. And when she was not haunting the hallways of the General, she trained, because exhausting herself physically meant that she would actually sleep at night rather than lie awake, driving herself mad with suppositions and worries about the retrieval mission.

In the rare free hours not taken up by these pursuits, Sakura picked up that little research project that had fallen to the wayside while she dealt with Kimimaro's imprisonment.

Thus it was that, one evening, Hinata found Sakura collapsed onto a desk in the library, fast asleep among stacks of books.

Hinata's timid voice pulled Sakura from her doze. "Sakura?"

"Mmwhut?" said Sakura eloquently.

She raised her head. A page of her notes clung to the side of her face – probably drool.

"I'm – I'm sorry I disturbed you," said Hinata, averting her eyes politely as Sakura pulled off the piece of paper with a laugh.

"No, no – _thank you –_ I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep. Here," said Sakura, pushing a heap of books out of the way, "lemme make some room for you…"

"Oh – no, thank you, I won't sit," said Hinata. "I'm just returning some books."

"Ah," said Sakura. And then she waited, because it always took Hinata a moment to work up the nerve to reciprocate questions.

Sure enough, Hinata took a little breath and spoke again. "And – and what are you working on?"

"Me? Just – um – just a personal project," said Sakura. "Nothing important."

Hinata was too polite to press her for further information, until she caught sight of a thick tome with the Hyuuga crest stamped on its spine. Then she looked at the stack of books beside it; _The Deerwhisperers: Naras Past and Present, A Yamanaka Family History_ , and _The Akimichi, or, On the Shoulders of Giants, 3rd ed._

"You are researching…clans?"

"Yes," said Sakura.

"Oh," said Hinata.

"Yep," said Sakura.

An awkward silence fell because Sakura didn't want to discuss her plotting any further than this and Hinata was just not good at carrying conversations.

Then, in a move that must have cost Hinata a lot of courage, because for her it verged on being pushy, she cleared her throat. "I am – um, well, I know a lot about the Hyuuga clan's history. So if – if I can be of any help, whatever you're looking for, just let me know…"

Sakura, who had already flipped through the Hyuuga book and not found quite what she was looking for, looked up at her, and flashed her a grin.

"You know what? I will _absolutely_ take you up on that. Are you free next week? Let's meet up for coffee – and for me to pick your brain…"

VVV

One rainy Sunday morning, about a fortnight after the retrieval squad had left, Sakura received an envelope bearing the seal of the Council. She tore it open to find within a list of the stipulations proposed by the Council to manage Kimimaro's return to the Leaf, should he meet the terms of their accord and find Sasuke.

As she read through the clauses, Sakura reflected that it was a good thing that Kimimaro liked her so much, because otherwise he'd be getting sick of his babysitter, and fast. He was to be within hailing distance of his custodian (or any alternate custodian she might appoint) at all times; he was to reside with his custodian until further notice (a stipend would be provided to them to cover any associated costs); he was not permitted to possess weapons; he (and therefore, she) was not permitted to go beyond the village walls without prior approval; he (and therefore, she) had a 10:00 p.m. curfew with any exceptions subject to approval…

The list went on and on. Underneath it followed a list of permissible activities, possibly in an attempt to assuage all of these don'ts: the Council recognized that Kimimaro Kaguya was a shinobi and, in the interest of maintaining his skills, he would be permitted to train at the village's various facilities; he was permitted to move freely throughout the village as long as he was within an appropriate distance of his custodian; he was permitted to enter public buildings under the same conditions, but private dwellings upon explicit invitation of the owner only…

The document indicated that Sakura Haruno, as his primary custodian, was responsible for ensuring Kimimaro Kaguya's adherence to these terms, and that any breach would result in him being confined for his own safety, given that Orochimaru was still at large. A footnote kindly informed Sakura that any appeal of a decision to incarcerate Kimimaro could be made using the Council's regular appeals process.

Sakura rolled her eyes at this last bit of red tape, which neatly wrapped up the entirety of this bureaucratic nonsense. She was only just beginning to truly understand what Tsunade had to deal with on a daily basis. Right now, faced with this officious, self-important letter, she could almost use some sake herself.

The missive concluded by asking for Sakura's signature to confirm that the above was in keeping with the spirit of her verbal agreement with the Council. Once signed, the entire thing would be ratified at the next Council meeting.

Sakura perused the document three or four more times, her frown deepening with each successive read-through. It was indeed generally in keeping with her last discussion with the Council – but, once set to paper, some of these conditions verged on the ridiculous. She understood that this kind of comprehensive (not to say, paranoid) approach would assuage the concerns of the Council and, eventually, the public. Other than straight-up imprisonment, this kind of close supervision topped with the accountability of someone with Sakura's impeccable reputation would shut down dissenters more than anything else.

But this was no way that Sakura wanted to live in the foreseeable future. Kimimaro might be alright with it, because even strictly restricting him to the bustling Leaf village would be a vast improvement over the limited scope of his previous life. But her? Needing prior approval to stay out past 10 unless she found a substitute? Really? Needing someone's okay to go for a stroll in the forest? No way.

Sakura's determination to forge on with phase two of the Kimimaro project – the Clan Plan – soared. But, for now – because she had this plan percolating and it might resolve this entire issue in one fell swoop – she would accept this arrangement and work hard to make sure that it was a temporary one.

Sakura signed the agreement but added a large question mark next to the stipulation that Kimimaro was not to possess weapons. And underneath of that large question mark she scrawled out a few lines asking them if they intended to remove Kimimaro's skeleton fully to ensure that he would not have any weapons on him, given his kekkei genkai, and if so, if she could witness the procedure, because it sounded fascinating from a medical standpoint, and she would like to shake the hand of the surgeon who managed to do so without killing him.

_Sincerely, Sakura Haruno._

VVV

The Council's missive did serve one useful purpose beyond spurring Sakura on with her research project: it was a useful reminder that, if all went according to plan, Kimimaro was going to be foisted upon her as a semi-permanent houseguest in the near future.

She looked around her modest apartment – so very obviously equipped for a single person – and realized that she had some preparations to take care of.

And so Sakura pulled her old single bed out of storage and spent the morning converting her office into a second bedroom of sorts. Then she went out and bought extra toothbrushes and towels and all of those little life necessities that Kimimaro might need. She had a surfeit of shampoos and soaps already, but, having studied the collection of pink and orange bottles that rimmed her bathtub, it occurred to her that perhaps Kimimaro might not want to smell like Mango Sunset or Strawberry Kiss or whatever other girly thing, so she brought home some supplies from the hospital – which would have the added benefit of keeping him smelling like Kimimaro.

When Sakura was putting the final touches on the mismatched office-turned-bedroom, squeezing an old dresser between the wall and her desk, it occurred to her that Kimimaro didn't actually have any clothes to put _in_ the dresser. Unless she was mistaken, all he had were the clothes on his back and maybe a few things that the prison might've issued to him.

So off to the tailor went Sakura, where she blushingly bought some men's underwear from the ready-to-wear section, then ordered some trousers and tops for a man about six feet tall with a slim build.

When the tailor flopped a large booklet of fabric samples in front of her and asked her to pick some colours for the shirts, Sakura lost herself at length in daydreams about how this or that shade would totally bring out the colour of Kimimaro's eyes.

She drifted in this pleasant reverie for a quarter of an hour, flipping through the fabrics, until the tailor coughed and looked at her from under his bushy grey eyebrows like he thought she was a bit strange.

Sakura blushed and stuttered out some excuse about being so distracted because of – because of work, yes. She settled on a selection of whites and light greys, in keeping with what seemed to be Kimimaro's preferred aesthetic, though she did throw in an order for a deep green shirt just because.

As she was leaving the shop, Sakura caught sight of some other outfits that the tailor was working on, draped in a haphazard fashion across his worktable. The Akimichis must've just placed an order: several of the pieces prominently figured their geometric emblem.

Something about the sight gave Sakura pause. Perhaps it was because she'd been raised in a civilian household, but she'd never understood this habit that the big families had of splashing their insignia onto every available surface. They were so proud of being a part of their clans – even Kimimaro, who had been so profoundly mistreated by his own kin, somehow still cherished their traditions and was proud of his last name.

She stared at the Akimichi emblem that was plastered front and centre of the half-finished pieces. She thought of the Yamanakas, so in love with their crest that they'd made it the logo of their flower shop. She thought of everyone's Jounin uniforms – Shikamaru's, Neji's, Shino's, Ino's, and all the rest – personalized with their families' shoulder patches. She thought of Sasuke and his lonely fan and Naruto and his equally lonely spiral. And the Inuzukas so proud that they painted their clan's red fangs onto their faces…

She didn't get it, but this stuff – this symbolism – obviously meant something to them. It mattered, in a way that she'd probably never fully understand, but, if it mattered that much…

"Everything alright, miss?" asked the tailor when, a moment later, Sakura spun on her heel and made her way back towards him.

"I just had a thought. I'd like you to include a crest on the backs of those shirts."

"Oh? Of course – which family is it?"

"Um – it's not a local family," said Sakura. "I don't think you'd be familiar with their insignia. I could draw it out for you?"

The tailor raised his bushy eyebrows, apparently quite confident in his knowledge of clan heraldry, but he nevertheless passed her a scrap of paper and a pencil. Sakura let the tip of the pencil hover over the paper as she envisioned that old book on the Shikotsumyaku that Kabuto had obtained for her, years ago now, with its faded cover featuring those two stylized white lines making an X like crossed swords…

She drew it out as best she could and slid it towards the tailor.

He studied her drawing intently. "I am indeed unfamiliar with this one. What did you say the name was…?"

"Kaguya," said Sakura.

"Huh," said the tailor. "Never heard of 'em."

"It's a – a small clan," said Sakura, possibly making the understatement of the year.

"I see," said the tailor, hoisting his pile of fabric samples at her again. "Colours?"

Sakura reached for the pile with a grin. "I promise I won't take a quarter of an hour this time. A thin outline in this red here… and then the rest of it in this white."

"Alrighty, so that's the blood red," said the tailor, flipping the fabrics over and jotting down the names of the colours, "and the rest in the bone white."

"Yes," said Sakura. "That's just… perfect."

VVV

About three weeks after the retrieval team's departure, a hawk came in with a note that they were getting close – close enough that Akamaru and Kakashi's ninken had picked up Sasuke's trail themselves.

Upon receiving this news, Tsunade sent for Jiraiya (currently on a "writing retreat" at a hot springs resort in Cloud). Jiraiya was almost as well-versed as Orochimaru in seal-work, and she wanted him on site if Sasuke and his cursed seal were indeed going to be brought back to Konoha.

And then there was silence for a few days – until the silence broke, and all hell broke loose with it.


	23. Chapter 23

Sakura was absorbed in treating an acute case of appendicitis when she heard herself being called for on the hospital's PA system. She ignored it the first few times, figuring that whatever staffer was paging her would check her schedule when she was non-responsive and realize that she was in the middle of a surgery.

Then the door burst open and one of her fellow medics, Midori, rushed in.

"Sakura, they're asking for you in B-03," she said breathlessly. "It's urgent."

"I'm a _little_ busy here," said Sakura, glaring at Midori over her patient's unconscious form.

"I'm to take over from you – I don't know what it's about, but they asked for you to go down immediately, the Hokage is already there…"

"The Hokage…?"

Sakura froze. Oh. _Oh._

She snapped out a few instructions at Midori regarding the patient and his grossly enlarged appendix, and then sprinted out the door.

B-03 was in the basement, a decrepit old ward that was rarely used anymore, unless the rest of the hospital was overflowing – or unless discretion was sought, because those asbestos-filled rooms were far more private than the upstairs wards.

Sakura decided to forego the stairs in favour of vaulting down three stories' worth of handrails all the way to B-03. She landed in the dim stairwell and made her way down an equally dim hallway, where she found hospital staff scurrying around this way and that.

A nurse caught sight of her and was at her side immediately to brief her. "Sakura. We just had a squadron come in beaten up to all hell…"

As Sakura made her way down the hall, she had to agree with this assessment; there were Gai, Neji, and Shikamaru looking very green and slumped against the wall with blood streaming out of their ears (Shizune fluttered between them, her hands aglow with healing chakra), there were Yamato and Ino lying unconscious in gurneys – Sakura's heart stopped until she heard the nurses surrounding them tut about chakra exhaustion, and then she could breathe again–

"…None critical except for one, we think," continued the nurse, "a dark-haired man, no one got to take a good look at him before the Hokage locked herself up with him and a couple others–"

"Who? Where are they?"

"They're in there," said the nurse, pointing at a door that led to an old operation room. "The Hokage brought him in along with Kakashi, Master Jiraiya, and someone I didn't recognize, a pale fellow…"

Sakura tried the handle only to find it locked, and then, when she gave it a chakra-boosted push to pop it off of its hinges, she found that the door was powerfully sealed shut by something that had a whiff of Jiraiya's work.

"One of the girls said it looked like the Uchiha boy that they carried in there, but that can't be right, can it…?" asked the nurse.

Sakura did not answer her, though the question sent her heart racing. She stood back and studied the door and was just wondering if it would be worth busting a hole through the wall to get in there when someone interrupted her destructive thoughts.

"H-hey, it's Sakura," said a weak voice.

Sakura turned to find Kiba on a stretcher a little ways down the hall. A flash of black and orange behind him told her that Naruto was on the floor somewhere on the other side.

"I'll take care of these guys," said Sakura to the nurse. "Go help Shizune deal with those three who look like they're about to toss their cookies, she's got her hands full… unless it's poison, then you come and get me."

"Understood."

Sakura eyed Kiba and Naruto, both of whom looked rather the worse for the wear; their clothes were filthy, they were covered with gashes and scrapes, and any skin that had escaped an open wound was blackened by bruises.

" _Sakura_ ," said Naruto, hoisting himself unsteadily to his feet to give her a smelly hug.

Sakura held him at arm's length, taking in his disparately-sized pupils, uncooperative limbs, and slurred speech, all signs that he, like Ino and Yamato, was nearing full chakra depletion – which, for a Jinchuriki of his stature, was something of a feat.

Kiba was hardly in a better state, delirious and giggly with exhaustion. Down the hall, Shikamaru had started to vomit and Kiba was chortling away to himself at the sight.

" _We got him_ ," said Naruto, leaning heavily into Sakura.

"You – what?!"

"We got the li-lil' bastard…"

Stinky or not, Sakura pulled him into that hug. "Oh my god, Naruto…!"

"Y-yeah – Granny Tsunade took him there," said Naruto, pointing over her shoulder to the wrong door, "or was it that one? Dunno. Anyways – they're gonna p-pull that seal out of him, they brought in Pervy Sage, he didn't even say hi to me, the old wart, haven't seen him in months, he just ran right in after her…"

"And Kakashi? And Kimimaro?"

"They're both woth… bith with… both with her," said Naruto, collapsing into Sakura. " _Lissen to me,_ Sak'ra – Sasuke tried to _kill me_. Can you believe…?! That asshole…"

"I believe it," said Sakura, catching Naruto just in time for him not to add a shattered skull to his list of ailments.

She laid Naruto gently onto the floor as Kiba giggled about how he had fainted like a girl.

Sakura gave Kiba a quelling look before pulling off the unconscious Naruto's shirt and sending her chakra into his system. She found him utterly out of his own chakra, while the fierce energy that marked the Kyuubi's chakra was only nominally present. Beyond that, Naruto was sporting a few smashed ribs, a fractured tibia, a couple of dislocated fingers, and a black eye rapidly swelling shut. There were a few ridges and irregularities in his system here and there suggesting recent healing – Ino must've gotten to him for the more serious stuff. The rest of his wounds appeared to be superficial, so all things considered, this really wasn't a bad catalogue.

She performed the same exercise for Kiba, who bore deep spiralling lacerations that spoke of collateral damage from those wolfish tornado techniques of his. His entire right arm was badly burned and he had managed to get kneecapped somewhere along the line. As low on chakra as he was, Kiba vacillated now between incoherent consciousness and blackout.

Altogether, none of this was life-threatening, and so Sakura looked up to assess the situation with the other members of the squadron. They, too, appeared to be well in hand by medical staff. Even from this distance, she could see that Ino's cheeks were already taking on a bit of colour as two medics pressed their palms to her wrists and transferred chakra back into her system.

Satisfied that the situation was stable – other than whatever was going on behind that damn door – Sakura began to work on Kiba, since, unlike Naruto, he was still conscious and therefore able to feel every one of his injuries.

"Where's Akamaru?" she asked, almost afraid to pose the question because the two of them were normally inseparable.

"My sis took him home," said Kiba. "H-he was so brave… he bit a guy's head off who was gonna kill me, and then he took a fireball to the face…"

Kiba started to tear up, which told Sakura quite how exhausted he was, because he really wasn't the emotional type.

"Is he okay…?"

"He got burned up pretty bad," said Kiba. "He's gonna be a bald-ass ugly fucker for a while, but he's gonna live…"

Sakura was only half-listening now as she drew a glowing palm against the blackened, twisted skin of his right arm.

"Man, Naruto, though," said Kiba with a giggle. "We found Sasuke and friggin' Naruto ran up to him and tried to go in for a hug – a _hug_ , m'not even kiddin', and Sasuke tried to skewer him…"

Sakura's concentration on healing the burn faltered as Kiba began to relate what had happened in this giddy, delirious way.

Kiba frowned, trying hard to concentrate. "Our timing was just shit. Just _shit_. Yeah… 'cause we found Sasuke just when Orochimaru and his Sound goons were converging on him – can you believe…? We think they must've been tracking us, and we led them to him, or somethin', the timing was too good…"

"Orochimaru was there? Oh, no…"

"Oh _yes_ ," said Kiba with a drunken kind of exhilaration. "But wait – there's _more_. S-Sass… Sasuke… when we arrived, he was duking it out with his _brother_ …"

" _What?!_ Itachi…?"

"Yeah," said Kiba. "I _know_. And then… okay so we're all in this field, and Orochimaru sees our squad and totally blows us off, like whatever, we weren't even important at that point, he just wanted Sasuke. But _then_ he saw that Kimimaro was with us…"

"And then?" pressed Sakura.

"H-his eyes bugged right the fuck out – and he went batshit, m'not kiddin', like frothing at the mouth, yelling at his Sound crew to go after Kimimaro and f-forget Sasuke. That was good for us, 'cause then _we_ could go after Sasuke, except _he_ was trying to kill his brother, which was like trying to commit suicide, basically, man, this Itachi guy was like a fuckin' ace, he was just toying with him and having a lil' chit-chat about their family…"

Kiba took a shaky breath and Sakura, unable to concentrate on healing him now, opted instead to press a hand to his chest and transfer some of her own chakra to his reserves to assuage his delirium and hopefully render his telling of these events a little more coherent.

"So then Kakashi – he was the squad leader yanno – was like, 'O shit,' and he asked Kimimaro if he could handle the Sound guys while we pulled out Sasuke 'cause that was like, mission imperative number one. K-Kimimaro said yes and Kakashi said 'are you sure' and Kimimaro just gave him this look like 'don't make me say it again you weird fake Uchiha' (he doesn't like him very much), so Kakashi signaled us on and left Kimimaro to keep the Sound off our asses…"

"By _himself?!"_

"Hey, he said he could handle it," said Kiba. "And – it was the perfect distraction from Sasuke, 'cause at that point, Orochimaru didn't give a damn about him… So then all the Sound dudes were flying towards Kimimaro and first he was kinda not moving, like I think he was shocked at seeing Orochimaru wiggin' out like that, and then Orochimaru started screaming 'that's my body! _That's mine_!' – his voice was breaking from his screaming, and Kimimaro was like 'fuck no' (only he didn't swear, I don't think he ever swears, that guy)…"

"And then?" prompted Sakura, who looked down to find that her fingertips were digging into Kiba's chest as she listened to this rambly, yet riveting, account.

"Right, so – so then, Kimimaro was basically on his own against all these assholes. I was watchin' and ready to go in with him 'cause I dunno, it seemed like a lot of dudes, like ten of 'em, plus Orochimaru and that Kabuto guy, but those two kept their distance at first, 'cause that's what pussies do. Okay so then Kimimaro starts doing these – dances? – first I was like, wow those are some pansy-ass names for your moves man, larchs and whatever-the-fuck – and then it turns out they're like whirlwinds of death, those dances, you know? W-what the hell kind of murder flower is a camellia?"

"I don't know, we can ask Ino later," said Sakura with some impatience. "Continue, _please_ …"

"H-hey, where _is_ Ino?" said Kiba, lifting his head.

"She's over there," said Sakura, gesturing down the hall. "She's safe – chakra exhaustion…"

"Okay, she's fine, good," said Kiba, lying back down. "Good… so where was I… oh yeah so this Kimimaro guy like amputates and decapitates half the dudes that are coming to him while they're doing all this bullshit Sound stuff with soundwaves, poppin' eardrums everywhere – that's when Gai got had in the ears – it looked like it was buggin' Kimimaro, too, but not too much 'cause I guess he was healing his eardrums as they popped, dunno, I just covered mine…"

"M'whud I miss?" said Naruto, suddenly sitting bolt upright and making Sakura jump. "What part are we at? Sasuke?"

" _I'm_ telling the story," said Kiba in delirious annoyance, attempting to push Naruto back down again. "Sh-shut your pie-hole, fox-boy… Anyway so then…then Orochimaru is like, screeching, 'he's mine' and he and Kabuto start moving in on Kimimaro. And then Kimimaro did this thing? Like, he turned half the battlefield into bones? The fuck? That actually happened, right? M'not sure any more…"

"It happened," piped in Naruto from the floor.

"–And then he was like, teleporting through the bones? To keep the Sound guys on his tail and away from us and Sasuke. The fuck, man, I thought his schtick was bone swords not friggin' _teleportation_ … Then fuckin' Orochimaru was trying to catch him, puking snakes up everywhere, and swords, and being all _stretchy_ – it was foul, man, who'd wanna give their body to that elastic asshole…"

"Elastic asshole," repeated Naruto with a shrill giggle.

"Hush," said Sakura.

Kiba's unfocused eyes drifted to the ceiling. "So then we're on Sasuke, and Kakashi and Gai go off to tango with Itachi 'cause, let's be honest, none of us were even close to his level, and Ino jumped into Sasuke's head long enough to still him so he'd stop fighting us like a little ungrateful fuck…"

" _Ungrateful fuck_ ," repeated Naruto, pounding the floor with a weak fist.

"That gave Yamato enough time to use one of those binding cage jutsu thingies on Sasuke's ass, and then Itachi saw that and broke away from Kakashi and Gai to save his brother from us, and we're like, no, _we're_ trying to save him, from _that_ guy… and then Itachi looks at Orochimaru and he's like, 'what do you mean save him?'"

Sakura's chakra was beginning to have an effect; Kiba's speech grew less slurred and more coherent, now: "And then Ino jumped into Itachi's head ( _Itachi's head_ , dude – she's brave as fuck) and showed him what she'd seen Sasuke become, from being in Kimimaro's head? Did I say that in the right order? Anyway, he booted her the hell out of his head in like five seconds, which she really didn't like, but it was enough that he understood, I think, what Orochimaru had done to his little brother…"

"Okay so now you gotta imagine everything I just told you, except there's explosions and fireballs and fuckin' Shikamaru's shadows all over the place, and Yamato's jutsus growin' everywhere like magic beans, and bones comin' out of the ground skewerin' people, and I'm all beast-mode and Naruto was even more beast-mode, gone half-fox on us and just wailin' on Sasuke's ass…"

"I think I bit him," said Naruto.

"Yeah you did," said Kiba. "And oh man. Neji saw Kabuto creepin' on Kimimaro while he was fighting five Sound dudes at once, all set to backstab him with one of those chakra scalpels, so Neji's like 'nah bro nah' and he jumps in and takes on Kabuto one-on-one – shit that was a gorgeous fight, until Kabuto did something to Neji's arms so he couldn't use them anymore…"

Sakura, immediately concerned because of Kabuto's nasty nerve attacks, looked down the hall at where Neji was slumped against the wall. Hikari was kneeling next to him and kneading chakra into his shoulder. She caught Sakura's eye and gave her a thumbs up.

"Oh – good – he'll be okay," said Sakura, turning back to Kiba. "Then what?"

"So after Itachi saw the shit Ino showed him, he dropped into this cold-ass rage, and he squared off with Orochimaru all protective-like, all 'what the hell did you do to my bro you snaky fucker'? Which, thank god, because we wouldn'ta been able to handle the two of them – Sasuke was bad enough by himself. And then Gai was poundin' away at Kabuto with I dunno how many gates open, 'cause he hurt Neji, and a couple Sound assholes that were still alive were runnin' around exploding eardrums and disorienting us like crazy the minute we weren't careful (Shikamaru and Neji got had that way, hah, did you see Shikamaru blow chunks just now, they've been doing that for _days_ )… And Kimimaro, 'cuz he didn't have Orochimaru on his ass anymore, came flyin' back and was slicing them up like goddamn hams, like, I'm not kiddin', I saw a guy get spiral cut, all he needed was a glaze…"

"So many guts," said Naruto.

" _Yeah_ ," nodded Kiba. " _Guts._ So then – well, Kakashi took one look at Orochimaru and Itachi revving up to fight and he ordered us to fall back and take Sasuke with us. So we did, we got the hell out of there before those two really started fucking shit up, and it's been a week that we've been hightailing it the hell back to the Leaf…"

Sakura shook her head. "Holy shit. We're goddamn lucky no one got seriously hurt–"

A shiver of unfamiliar chakra interrupted her. She looked up: the door to the old operation room had just been unsealed and was opening.

Jiraiya's spiky white head popped out and he scanned the corridor until he caught sight of Sakura, at which point he gestured her in. Sakura was on her feet immediately.

"Guys – I have to go," said Sakura. "Shizune – can you make sure these two are looked after?"

"You got it," called Shizune. "Wakai, Hikari, when Yamato and Neji are stable, I want one of you on Kiba and Naruto…"

Kiba reached out weakly to hold Sakura back. " _Wait_. I gotta tell you about the part where Akamaru ate a guy's head…"

"Later, Kiba, later…!"

VVV

After the bright, loud chaos of the hallway, the atmosphere in the old operating room was oppressive, verging on eerie. Glass cracked under Sakura's shoes: the electric lights had been blown out by something, and now only emergency lighting strips along the walls illuminated the place.

The moment that she crossed the threshold, Sakura could feel a heaviness in the air – the aftershocks of a powerful justu, a black jutsu, and now there lingered just enough foulness that it made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

A semicircle of silhouettes stood in the penumbra: Kakashi, Kimimaro, Tsunade, and Jiraiya. Tsunade and Kakashi gave Sakura a nod and Kimimaro's eyes brightened at the sight of her, but then all of their gazes returned to the figure lying prone at their feet.

There lay Sasuke.

The floor around him was marked with concentric circles of black ink whose every ornate curve and spiral was heavy with meaning; advanced seal-work far beyond Sakura's knowledge or understanding.

She approached close enough to see Sasuke's chest moving up and down with slow, shallow breaths. He was filthy; his hair was long and unkempt; his face skeletal; his skin torn up and bruised all over…

All over, except for one spot – one spot there, on the left side of his neck that had once been defiled by the filthiest mark of all, but now, as Sakura crouched beside him, she could see his skin marred only by a blue-black bruise and a smudge of dirt.

"You did it," she whispered through the fingers that she had involuntarily pressed against her lips.

"He'll live," said Jiraiya, sounding fatigued. "He's had a rough time of it, but he'll live."

This moment was the culmination of so much searching – and years and years and years of hoping. Sakura fell to her knees beside Sasuke, having difficulties believing that the retrieval mission had been successful, and that he was actually here, and breathing, and alive. He had evaded them for so long that he had almost become a thing of myth, and this moment a thing of foolish dreams…

She looked at Sasuke's ravaged face and was surprised to find herself feeling not a flood of relief or elation or joy as she might have expected, but rather pity, and a sudden and profound sadness at a young life so wasted by hatred, and anger at Orochimaru's hand in it.

Tsunade's hand on her shoulder startled her.

"Sakura?"

Sakura regained her feet and felt on her the weight of the stares of everyone in the room – Tsunade's watchful; Jiraiya's curious; Kakashi's neutral; and then there was Kimimaro…

She glanced up to catch the tiniest tilt of his head: he was puzzled about something. When he caught her eye, he shook his head and resumed his usual impassive demeanor.

"Any sense of when he'll return to consciousness?" asked Sakura.

"No," said Tsunade. "He's almost completely unresponsive – near comatose, actually. It could be a while."

Jiraiya squatted down next to Sasuke and pressed his fingertips to that newly blank spot on his neck. "It's not surprising. I don't really mess around with cursed seals, and this one went deep… deeper than Anko's did way back when I pulled hers. I couldn't be – ah – as _delicate_ in my extraction as I would've liked. But I wanted to get that nastiness out of his system fast before he came to and tried to pull anything…"

Jiraiya looked up and jutted his chin towards Kimimaro. "This guy was a help – he's gone through a removal before – gave us some pointers, let us know what to expect with a seal that ran this deep…"

"Yes," said Kimimaro, his fingers drifting to his collarbone. "But. It was not like this for me. It was… unpleasant. But. Not like this."

Kimimaro shifted; glass from the blown out lights crunched under his feet. He stared at Sasuke lying insensible before him, encircled with ink like black blood, and Sakura thought she might've seen something that looked like empathy in his eyes – until he blinked and it was gone.

"You were on your feet fast afterwards, Kimimaro," said Sakura. "It was a matter of hours with you. I remember…"

(That exchange was burned into her memory because she'd been so worried when they'd taken him away, and so glad when he'd come back… she could still hear her anxious voice, ' _are you hurt?',_ and then his answer, ' _Not in a way that you can help me._ ')

Jiraiya straightened up with a groan. "Yeah. Sasuke let that thing consume him a hell of a lot more deeply than any of us thought. Felt like Orochimaru was right next to me when I was in there… and he did _not_ want to come out…"

"So what happens now?" asked Kakashi.

"Now we wait," said Tsunade. "And we see what's left of Sasuke when he wakes up. I'll send out a recon squad to figure out what happened between Itachi and Orochimaru. If Orochimaru survived that fight, well – he now knows that the Leaf has both Kimimaro and Sasuke."

"Old boy's gonna be _pissed_ ," said Jiraiya.

"He is," said Tsunade. "I can only hope he'll dare to come show me how pissed he is in person…"

Jiraiya shook his white head. "Not likely, princess. He ain't gonna risk it. Not now, anyhow, not after a fight with goddamn Itachi and most of his men dead…"

"You're probably right," sighed Tsunade. "Unfortunately. But, regardless, I'll have a watch set on Sasuke in case Orochimaru's desperation overcomes his cowardice…"


	24. Chapter 24

When Sakura exited the OR, rumours that Sasuke Uchiha had been seen at the hospital were already running rampant through the General's normally quiet hallways. And by the time Sakura relieved Midori from the appendicitis op and finished up there – an hour, perhaps? – half of Konoha was ablaze with the news that Sasuke Uchiha had been found, and not only found, but, absurdly, found by a mysterious Sound shinobi who was helping the Leaf…

Sakura shook her head when her walk to her office was interrupted by a dozen curious coworkers and patients. So much for the Council's concerns about confidentiality…

Speaking of which – just as she arrived at her office, Sakura's musings were interrupted by a harried messenger boy bearing an envelope emblazoned with the Council's seal. Sakura thanked him, shut the door behind her, and tore open the envelope.

Within was a copy of a communiqué addressed to Konoha's authorities, both of the civilian and shinobi persuasions, "to ensure public awareness of Kimimaro Kaguya's non-hostile presence in the Leaf." Sakura skimmed through the grandiose officialese: the announcement set out the basic terms of Kimimaro's agreement with the Council, confirmed that he had met those terms, and indicated that he was now under the guardianship of Sakura Haruno and subject to the following conditions…

Sakura flipped over the page to find the list of stipulations that she had signed off on. Below the extensive list was a footnote, so tiny that it was almost illegible, indicating that a standard clause on weapon possession had been removed, given that Mr. Kaguya's kekkei genkai would make such a clause moot.

A scrap of paper fluttered out from the bottom of the envelope. Sakura picked it up to find a note in a woman's pointy handwriting: _Council has been advised of S.U.'s safe return. Apparently, so has the rest of the village, as I learned of the news from my gardener before official word from the Hokage reached me. Council thought it best to issue this release at once sanctioning K.K. in Konoha, lest his unexplained presence cause confusion, hostility, or some other botheration. Regards, Utatane._

Sakura barely finished reading the dry missive when a knock sounded on the door. She glared at it. Today she couldn't have thirty damn seconds to herself…

"What is it?" she called.

"Special delivery."

With a briskness borne by irritation, Sakura pulled open the door to reveal Kakashi, still grimy and beat-up from the mission. Just behind him was Kimimaro, looking equally grimy but, thanks to the perks of his bloodline limit, significantly less beat-up.

"Special delivery…?" repeated Sakura, looking curiously at the two of them.

"Yeah. I believe this is yours," said Kakashi, gesturing to Kimimaro with a thumb over his shoulder.

"Oh," said Sakura when the realization hit her. "Oops…"

"Yeah, _oops,_ " said Kakashi. "Some custodian. Five minutes in and you forget your ward…"

"Damn it," said Sakura with an embarrassed laugh. She pulled the door open wider. "Come in, Kimimaro. I had a surgery to get back to and then I got sidetracked…"

"I won't tell the Council if you don't," said Kakashi, winking his sole visible eye at her. "Listen – they've just put a fresh shift of medics on Uchiha duty."

"Do they need a hand? I just finished for the day, I'm free…"

"Nah. Tsunade and Jiraiya are staying the night – you'd just be overkill at this point."

"Ah."

"The rest of us have been ordered to get some rest–" Kakashi interrupted himself with a wide yawn "–orders which I, for one, am most definitely going to follow. That tango with Itachi just about did me in. So I'm officially putting Kimimaro in your hands. Don't lose him again."

"I won't," said Sakura with an apologetic look at Kimimaro, who, in any case, did not seem to have taken offense.

"Good. I'm out," said Kakashi with a lazy wave. "You kids behave yourselves, now…"

"Get Shizune to look at those cuts tonight," called Sakura after him, because it seemed to her that Kakashi's slouch today was real and not put on for effect. Her old sensei was bone-tired and probably sporting more injuries than he was letting on.

"Who…? I don't know any Shizunes," called Kakashi as he walked away.

"Tch," said Sakura to Kimimaro when Kakashi had retreated down the hall. "I don't know why he denies it when it's so obvious to everyone…"

And then she realized that she was talking to Kimimaro and that she herself was the queen of Denial When It's So Obvious to Everyone, and that made her shut up for a solid minute of annoyed, yet humbling, self-reflection.

"Alright – just give me a minute, here," said Sakura, gathering a few documents together. "I have a couple things to sign off on by tomorrow that I just haven't had time to look at…"

Kimimaro nodded as Sakura shuffled papers around and muttered to herself about who had written this thing with such illegible handwriting (it was her), and where had she put that other file…

He stood by the door in his little cloud of dirt and grime. And as he waited there still and silent and not seeming to know quite what to do with himself, it dawned on Sakura that this was the first time that they'd been alone together since their brief reunion on that snowy night. This was the first time that they were together without prison bars between them or guards to interrupt their conversations. The first time that they were safe from immediate danger. The first time that they were truly alone – just the two of them.

Sakura's rummaging through her files faltered. The realization hit her unexpectedly and it hit her hard, and it had the immediate, and unwelcome, consequence of making her nervous and jumpy. She felt all of a sudden like a little girl alone with her first crush – only she wasn't a little girl, she was a powerhouse of a kunoichi and a genius in her own right, and Kimimaro wasn't her first crush, and yet… and yet here she was, her fingers suddenly aimless in their rifling, her pulse accelerating for no reason.

And now that she'd come to this realization, she felt too shy to look at him, of course – and oh no, here it was, here came the defensive babbling…

"It's a good thing Kakashi caught on that I'd wandered off, hah. Sorry about that… I'll try not to be such a terrible custodian or I'll get us both in trouble. I had to finish up this appendectomy on this guy who had the most inflamed appendix I've ever seen, I swear, it was like a breakfast sausage…"

Kimimaro blinked at her.

"… But it won't happen again, I promise," said Sakura, stuffing her files into her bag. "Actually, you know what, now that I think of it, it'd be a great idea if you familiarize yourself with the exact terms of your release – here, it's the second page of this letter – so you can catch me if I break any of them like I did just now, and you can make sure you don't break any by accident, either…"

She shoved the paper into his hands. "Anyway – you're probably dying for a shower, aren't you? You look like you could use one – no offense, ha ha. So – so let's go home? I mean – my place. Which is my home, but not yours. Or, well, I guess, technically, it is, for now, because you'll be living there for the foreseeable future? Um, yeah, so… shall we…?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro, standing a polite distance away, perhaps self-consciously. "I would like a shower."

"Okay – let's leave through my window, here… If we use the rooftops, we'll get there faster. And we won't have to fight off throngs of people who are going to be really curious about you…"

So they made their way to Sakura's apartment via the shinobi road, shadowed by her perennial ANBU tails – whose presence, incidentally, made her realize that she'd damn well better keep to the terms of that Council agreement whenever she and Kimimaro set foot outside, or they'd be reporting her.

Their presence also made her realize that she'd better keep things between herself and Kimimaro professional, because they'd _definitely_ be reporting anything interesting there directly to the Hokage, and that was the last thing she needed…

She caught Kimimaro eyeing the operatives behind them as they leapt from roof to roof behind them.

"Yeah… you're not the only one with babysitters."

"I see," said Kimimaro.

"So we'll have to be on our best behaviour, you know?" said Sakura as they passed through someone's rooftop garden. "In – in every aspect…"

"Oh," said Kimimaro. He looked more serious than usual beneath the smudges of dirt that obscured his face. "…I am not always certain what 'best behaviour' is."

"Of course, I'll help you with that stuff," said Sakura. "You haven't lived life in – well, in normal society, I know that – everyone knows that, or they soon will, because rumours as juicy as your being here are going to spread like wildfire. I don't think you'll be judged too harshly…"

A glance behind her told Sakura that her shadows were far enough away that they wouldn't hear her next words, words which she really needed to get out now while she had the chance – and before anyone saw anything untoward.

"Actually, this is probably a good time to mention – now that you're here, in Konoha, we'll have to tone down the, um, the physical contact a little…"

What she didn't say was that this also gave her an excuse to keep her distance from him, which was a relief, in a way, because she was attracted to him, and crushing on him, and maybe – quite likely – something more, and she was _scared_. (God, she irritated herself – she was one of Konoha's finest kunoichi, for god's sake. So how was she also such a complete and utter _wuss_?)

Kimimaro, unaware of the stream of self-doubt and confusion bubbling away in Sakura's head, nodded at her.

"Yes. I understand that."

Sakura looked at him askance, a little surprised to learn this.

"Kabuto made it clear, in the early days, that this was not – normal. But. You…" Kimimaro hesitated and gave her a brief, uncertain glance. "You never said not to."

Sakura bit her lip because yes, he was right. Unlike Kabuto, she had always accepted his touches and later essentially encouraged them because he was a touch-starved tragedy and she was a bleeding-hearted idiot…

"There was – there _is_ – no harm in it at all, of course," said Sakura, making an effort to sound casual. "But back then, in Otogakure, well, the context was – different. Here, it's not something that people really _do_ , unless they're…"

The leap to the next building was a good pretext to let the sentence drift off unfinished; she took the excuse gladly.

"Unless they are… what?"

(Damn it.)

"Uh – unless they're, like, a thing."

"A thing?" repeated Kimimaro with a blank look.

"Like, an item."

Again the blank look.

"Like – _together_ ," said Sakura. "A couple. Seeing each other. Dating. Married. Whatever."

The list made her uncomfortable; it was a sharp reminder that she and Kimimaro were adrift in some kind of unlabelled no-man's-land that didn't fit into any of these conventional categories. And he was too reserved (and clueless) to make it otherwise and she was hurt (Sasuke) and scarred (Sasuke) and afraid (Sasuke) – and what would people think, a Leaf kunoichi falling for one of Orochimaru's former soldiers, what would her Hokage think of her, oh god this was messy…

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

If he was wrestling with similarly confused thoughts himself, he did not show it. He asked no further questions on the matter, though he looked pensive as they reached the roof of her building.

They swung down a few balconies and landed on Sakura's just as the sun began to set.

Sakura slid open the door to her place and made her way inside. Kimimaro remained perched on her balcony and watched her mutely.

"Well? You coming?" said Sakura, kicking off her boots.

And his eyes widened, and he hesitated for a moment, like he couldn't quite believe this was real life, before clambering down after her.

Sakura gave Kimimaro a brief tour of the place before showing him to the bathroom and handing him a stack of fresh clothes. While he showered, she pulled out yesterday's leftover rice and began to prepare a stir-fry for dinner.

As she peeled a couple of carrots, Sakura found herself vacillating between happiness that Kimimaro was here (with her, in her apartment, with the blessing of Konoha's highest authority, it was too wonderful) – and these stupid nerves.

Eventually the sound of running water from the bathroom stopped and the slightest whiff of soap floated in over the vegetables that she was slicing.

Sakura turned to find Kimimaro standing on the other side of the counter, all cleaned up and wearing one of his new shirts, which he was looking down at with an inscrutable expression.

"Oh – it fits!" said Sakura, gesturing to the shirt with a stalk of celery. "Good – I was kind of winging it on the measurements. The tailor wasn't very impressed with me."

"…This was made for me?" asked Kimimaro.

"Yeah," said Sakura. "I figured you didn't have much in terms of clothes, so I decided to order a couple things…"

"Oh."

He was still looking down at himself in silence, which made Sakura second guess the wisdom of her decision; maybe it hadn't been a good idea to get him these, maybe he didn't want help, maybe he was too proud, maybe…

"Do you – do you like it?"

Kimimaro studied the material that fell impeccably down his chest in a stylish V, the beautiful stitching along the bottom hem, the texture of the silk.

He looked up at her with bright eyes. "I like it. Very much."

Oh, it did things to her, that glimmer of joy that flashed in his eyes and existed only for her…

"I'm glad – it looks really good on you," said Sakura.

Silence was the only answer to this offhand compliment, which was fairly normal, because it was Kimimaro… but when Sakura glanced at him, she saw that he was staring at the floor with a sudden fixation. And not only that, but unless it was a trick of the light, for the first time since she'd met him, he was _blushing_.

This she found unaccountably strange until she realized that, in all of their time together, she'd complimented him on his healing, on his fascinating bloodline, on his progress, but she'd never actually told him (though she'd thought it a thousand times) that he was beautiful.

Did he even know it? The question gave Sakura pause as she watched him covertly over her cutting board. No – he probably didn't. How could he, after a life like the one he'd led? It's not like compliments on his looks would've been forthcoming from the likes of the clan that had abused him, or Orochimaru who'd known him so briefly as a child before his illness had rendered him comatose for years, or Kabuto, certainly not Kabuto…

Pity and affection for Kimimaro surged at this thought, which elicited a small spark of courage, which Sakura seized before it could get away, and she'd probably regret it, but too bad, the words were coming out – "Kimimaro… has anyone told you that you're, like, really good-looking?"

His eyes met hers in momentary surprise at the question and she could see that he was most definitely blushing. (She'd never seen him embarrassed, not once, and he used to wander around largely naked in front of her and never give a damn, but now he _was_ embarrassed, and it was so adorable she could have screamed.)

Kimimaro shook his head no, minutely, and resumed his study of the kitchen tiles.

"Well, you are," said Sakura, and then, because the spark of courage was fading and she was herself growing embarrassed of her own candour, she turned the conversation back to the shirts. "Anyway… I have, like, twelve of those for you, so I'm glad they fit. A half-dozen pairs of trousers, too."

The change in topic seemed to ease Kimimaro's sudden, and oh-so-endearing, embarrassment somewhat.

"So many…?"

"Well, yeah," said Sakura. "Most people have more than, like, three pieces of clothing, you know…"

"Oh."

"Did you see the back?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro with a solemn nod. "I did."

His face was inscrutable and, again, Sakura was unsure about whether she'd made the right call on that – whether this clan insignia idea had been a bad one; perhaps he didn't want it, maybe there were only certain elements of his clan's traditions he liked and the emblem wasn't one of them…

He reached a hand over his shoulder to run his fingers over the top of the embroidered crest. "It means a great deal to me."

Sakura breathed out a little sigh of relief; he liked it.

"It is… it is…" Kimimaro's gaze found hers and his was now vivid with the light of a gratefulness he couldn't quite articulate, and so instead, of course, he was coming towards her.

And Sakura knew that her compliment earlier had been a little understated, because he looked better than good. Truth be told, he was quite – quite _dashing_ all done up like this, with his hair in its red ties and the marks of his bloodline on his face and his family's crest on his back. Somehow, he was so official-looking right now, this man approaching her, who was the sole heir of the Kaguya clan and therefore _important_ , and it was weirdly intimidating…

Sakura turned to her vegetables and began to prattle away again because his approach was making her nervousness return with a vengeance.

"Is the crest accurate enough? I was worried because I made a little doodle of it for the tailor, but it was from memory, based on that old book on the Shikotsumyaku from all those years ago. I mean, I think I got all the details right, but…"

He came closer; she grew more alarmed. Mingled excitement and nerves made her pulse speed up. She thought, as she watched him approach out of the corner of her eye, that she should tell him now – remind him gently about the personal space thing – but then, she didn't want to because she wanted him to come close…

"I thought it might not turn out, you know," she babbled on, "but I shouldn't have worried. He deals with clan insignia day in and day out and he rendered it so well. He's a very skilled tailor…"

Kimimaro's hand on hers stilled Sakura's distracted chopping and quieted her voice. His hair skimmed her shoulder; the solid warmth of his chest brushed her back; the smell of soap warmed by skin permeated the air.

"Thank you," he said into her ear.

And Sakura was proud of herself because she didn't immediately die.

"You're very – very welcome," said Sakura in a strangled voice.

"You are cold," said Kimimaro, noticing the goosebumps that were now dancing their way down her arm. (His fingertips trailed along them and made them worse.)

"A little," lied Sakura. "But it's fine – I'll have the stovetop on in a minute…"

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

He turned his attention back to the shirt, whose sleeve he was now examining. "I have never had such a thing before."

"You deserve it. It was about time we got you out of those old Sound clothes."

Sakura pushed on forcefully through the light-headedness that threatened to take over her brain with every moment of contact between them. Then he placed his hand back on hers and all of her efforts were in vain. She let go of the knife, because how could she continue to hold it, when these sensations were adrift throughout her system and she could hardly stand up straight, much less slice carrots…

"I cannot thank you enough for this," said Kimimaro. He was leaning over her shoulder from behind now, trying to make eye contact, but Sakura couldn't look up from her stupid carrots.

She shook her head. "It's nothing, honestly…"

"No, it is not nothing," said Kimimaro.

His patience with her ongoing fascination with her vegetables had ebbed; gentle fingers on her shoulder turned her towards him and she didn't resist because, because…

Would there ever come a day when she wouldn't be immediately enchanted by this gaze that brimmed with unsaid things?

He took a breath. "You are – you have always been – so very kind to me, and I…"

Again words failed him. He drew a palm up and down her arm, and it was his turn to stare at the stupid carrots. And Sakura felt for him because of these emotions that he was grappling with and his inability to express them right now because he couldn't, or wasn't ready yet – she could empathize; she was going through much the same thing.

Silence fell as they stood there, her like a frozen thing and he much closer than propriety would dictate, his hand on her arm…

Propriety. Sakura glanced out the kitchen window to where the ANBU operatives were scattered along next door's roof in the twilight, silhouetted against the soft pink sky. Any one of them could be looking in this direction at any given moment, though what they'd be able to make out from that distance, she wasn't certain…

"Kimimaro – the window…"

Kimimaro followed her line of sight and took a step away from her. He watched the figures for a moment more before speaking again. "You told me I must be on my best behaviour."

Sakura willed her light-headedness away. "Yes."

He gestured to the distance between them. "I was too close."

"A bit," said Sakura, while some part of her cursed her because no, she wanted him even closer, damn it.

"Oh," said Kimimaro. He blinked at her. "Why did you not say so?"

He was right to ask; she had just that afternoon promised to help him with this social decorum stuff. That didn't make the question any easier to answer. Sakura turned to rinse her knife as excuses and justifications and little lies ran through her head, each weaker than the ones that came before.

And Kimimaro waited, patient and silent.

"I kind of – I kind of forgot about the black ops being there just now," said Sakura finally and truthfully.

She watched the water run down the sink. "I… I kind of forget everything when I'm around you."

Green eyes met lighter green; he almost smiled. "I understand."

"Do you?"

"Yes. You have the same effect on me."

And Sakura, feeling the onset of a blush, turned away and wiped down her knife for an unnecessary length of time.

"I should've said something," said Sakura at length. "I will next time. Or we'll both get in trouble."

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

"You told me I confused you before, you remember?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro. There was a pause. "Although. You no longer do."

Sakura bit her lip; yes, in those days he was confused because his feelings for her were tearing at his loyalties to Orochimaru and the Sound. But he'd made a decision on that the moment he left them and came for her – there was no more confusion now; he knew what he wanted, he knew _who_ he wanted, repercussions be damned…

Not for the first time, Sakura envied him this clarity, this fearlessness. _She_ worried about repercussions; she overthought everything; she had a host of people in Konoha ready to judge her; she had kept him a secret because she had thought that she'd never see him again and it wasn't worth the pain of sharing it; she had the man everyone thought she loved recovering in hospital, and now what?

Now what? She was caught in a net of half-truths and little lies of her own devising, but each strand of that net had, at the time, been necessary for her own sanity, for the sake of peace, for the sake of moving on, for her self-preservation… And now Sasuke was back, and Kimimaro was _here_ , and things were _complicated_ …

Sakura sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "I told you, before I left Otogakure, that you confuse me too."

"Yes."

"I'm still confused," said Sakura.

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

He was unoffended; he accepted this as mildly as those other moments when she had kept him at a distance – when he'd asked to kiss her and she'd said no, when he'd asked her to share his bed again and she'd refused, when she kept running away from him…

Kimimaro turned to study the silhouettes of the ANBU outside with an eye that took in their exact positions, their distance from each other, the way a few permitted themselves to be easily visible while the rest skulked in shadow.

"There are more now than there were before," remarked Kimimaro. "The night I arrived here."

"Yeah," said Sakura, glad of the change of subject. "Tsunade doubled the watch on me because – well, you dispatched them so easily the first time."

"Oh," said Kimimaro. He turned to her. "I apologize for earlier. I do not want to get you in trouble."

"Let's – let's just be careful," said Sakura.

"How far should I…?" asked Kimimaro, gesturing to the space between them.

And Sakura was about to answer that that amount of space was fine, but she was about five paces away, which seemed too much – so she took a step towards him and looked up at him, but it still seemed like a lot. Normally she stood closer to people when she was talking to them, didn't she? She took another step towards him (and he looked happier), and then one more.

"Um – something like this is probably normal…?"

Kimimaro did not look overly impressed by the generous arm's length that she had left between them.

"If we must," said Kimimaro.

"We must," said Sakura, because yes, they had to. Until she grew a pair and decided what the hell this thing was between them and what to do with it. Until she had a chance to talk to Tsunade so she would find out the right way, not via some black ops gossip. Or perhaps until Sakura couldn't stand it anymore and threw herself at Kimimaro because she wanted to hold him and kiss him and be with him, and the watching ANBU be damned and oh god, she was in so much trouble…

And Kimimaro, unaware of these thoughts, shot the ANBU outside a dark look and said, "Very well."

VVV

Dinner was interrupted several times. First, a beep on the intercom announced the presence downstairs of the nervous prison guard that Sakura had bossed around during Kimimaro's confinement.

She buzzed the guard up and he delivered a small parcel to Kimimaro: the scarce belongings that he had left at the prison. These belongings consisted of a few threadbare clothes and a bundle of supplies so sad and dry that Sakura almost began to cry at the sight of it. Then she scolded Kimimaro because that's it? That's what he had subsisted on for months while traveling to her? And she emptied the entire wok of stir-fry onto his plate and told him to eat it so that she would feel less guilty.

Then, just when Sakura had seated herself and grabbed her fork, the intercom beeped again. This time, the envoy who represented the Hidden Mist in Konoha announced himself downstairs. Sakura buzzed him up with raised eyebrows; she had met the man before at fundraisers and other events, but it was decidedly unusual to have someone of his stature come by for a personal visit.

"Ambassador Biwa," said Sakura, pulling her front door open a moment later. "This _is_ a surprise…"

"Ah – Ms. Haruno," bowed the portly envoy. "A pleasure to see you again – it has been too long."

"Yes, it's been a while," said Sakura, returning the bow politely. "To what do I owe the honour…?"

"Ah – I won't take much of your time, Ms. Haruno. I am here to confirm the truth – or not – of a certain rumour that is going around town about the presence of a man bearing the last name Kaguya, who, as I understand it, might be with you?"

"He is," said Sakura. "We're just having a bite to eat, actually – is this urgent…?"

"Oh, not at all, no," said Mr. Biwa affably. "My superiors merely wish for the confirmation that he is indeed in the Hidden Leaf – which you have graciously given – thank you."

"Of course. It's public knowledge now, anyway – the Council issued a press release a few hours ago," said Sakura.

She paused before continuing, not wishing to offend the man and start a diplomatic incident, but too curious not to ask: "May – may I ask why this information would be of interest to the Hidden Mist?"

Mr. Biwa gave her a little smile. "Let us say mere curiosity, for now. It is a very interesting development, you know, to hear of a clan so long thought extinct, but now possibly risen again… _very_ interesting…"

He reached out and took Sakura's hand in his pudgy one. "I won't interrupt you further. Thank you, Ms. Haruno. Much appreciated. I shall turn to the Council's release on the matter for more information and not importune you any more tonight… Do accept my apologies for interrupting your meal."

He bid her good evening with his impeccable old world manners and left. Sakura watched him go, wondering what the hell that had been about.

She unplugged the intercom completely before sitting back down at the table with Kimimaro, hoping that this would buy them a moment's peace.

It did not. Sakura had taken perhaps two bites when dinner was interrupted a third time. A prim little knock sounded on her door. Sakura grumbled and pulled the door open to find her upstairs neighbour, little Ms. Kuchi, fairly bursting with excitement on the landing.

"Oh, Sakura, dear – I was just coming home from some errands, you know, and I saw such a crowd downstairs…"

"A crowd…? What's going on?"

Ms. Kuchi bounced on the balls of her feet. "They're here about you, don't you know? There's journalists and everything, they want to come up and see you? They're saying that the Uchiha boy was found – found by a _fugitive_ from _Otogakure_ , can you imagine? And they're saying the fugitive is _here_ , and that he's to live with you…?

"It's so _strange_ ," continued Ms. Kuchi in the face of Sakura's blank look. "I didn't let any of them into the building, you know; I used my purse to bat them off (I carry a brick in it for the purpose, you know), but I thought I'd pop in to tell you. What a silly story, though? It's not true, of course…?"

Ms. Kuchi did not give Sakura much of a chance to respond to this. She stood on her tiptoes and peeked over her shoulder. And there was Kimimaro at the table, staring back at her.

"Oh my," breathed Ms. Kuchi, "who is _he_? _Is_ it true…?"

"Yes, it is," said Sakura with a sigh, because little miss chatterbox was going to enjoy this far too much. "The Council released the news a few hours ago, I'm sure it'll be all over the papers by tomorrow…"

"Oh my goodness! Really? And… And is that _him_?" asked Ms. Kuchi, eyeing Kimimaro with great interest.

"Yes," said Sakura, standing aside so that she could see him properly. "That's Kimimaro Kaguya. Missing-nin from the Sound. He tracked Sasuke for us."

"That's him? He is? He did? Oh, how _exciting_ ," squeaked Ms. Kuchi breathlessly. "Hi there…"

Kimimaro was chewing on a piece of broccoli. He swallowed and said, almost shyly, "Hello."

"Oh, he is _charming_ …"

Sakura twitched an eyebrow, because 'hello' wasn't _that_ charming, but nevertheless…

Her arm barred the door to prevent Ms. Kuchi from taking this nascent conversation as an invitation to come in.

"Anyway," said Sakura, "we're just having dinner, as you can see, and then we've got stuff to do, so…"

"Of course, of course," said Ms. Kuchi, back on her tiptoes to peek at Kimimaro now that her view was blocked again. "I shan't disturb you… You know I am a very discreet person, and I never meddle… Oh, but he's very _fine_ looking, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," said Sakura.

(And Kimimaro stared at the wall and there was a tinge of pink high on his cheekbones.)

"But what shall I tell the journalists? They were _very_ demanding…"

"You don't need to tell them anything – just sit tight in your apartment; they'll be gone by morning," said Sakura. Then, upon seeing the disappointment on Ms. Kuchi's face, she relented. "Or…you could go tell them to bug the Council members for details if they dare. Kimimaro and I are otherwise engaged."

"Oh yes, otherwise engaged, of course, of course," said Ms. Kuchi. She bustled down the hall self-importantly. "That's what I'll tell them. They will be _very_ interested. I shall be in the news tomorrow, no doubt, a front page interview, because I've actually _seen_ him, you know… Oh, how _exciting_ …"

Sakura shut the door, locked it, and leaned against it with a sigh.

"The next few days are going to be a bit of a whirlwind," said Sakura, more to herself than Kimimaro. "I'm just starting to realize that."

She resumed her seat. "I didn't really think through how thrilling this news would be for the village because this story's been so hush hush until now. But Sasuke's return after a decade is obviously going to be big – they're one of our founding families, the Uchihas; he was already famous before he left…

"And, of course, you being here," continued Sakura, picking at her plate, "this mysterious shinobi from a hostile village who helped us find him – that's going to be big too. Once they find out your story – that you were Orochimaru's next body, that you're the one I was kidnapped to heal a few years ago – when people start putting those pieces together, this is going to be a huge deal. The talk of the village for months, probably…"

Kimimaro ate on without comment, apparently not having strong feelings about this one way or another.

Meanwhile, all Sakura could think of was trying to walk out of her building the next day and getting swarmed by a story-hungry mob. What annoyed her the most was that they'd be wanting to get their hands on Kimimaro because he was the most interesting thing right now, since Sakura was old news and Sasuke couldn't be harassed because he was conveniently unconscious.

The thought of having to share Kimimaro with all of those other people made it difficult for Sakura to swallow her next mouthful. It took her a moment to recognize the feeling as a surge of protectiveness, because he was so innocent, along with a little tinge of jealousy, because he had been all hers for a long time…

She pushed her plate away, having suddenly lost her appetite.

VVV

(gif by me!)

 


	25. Chapter 25

Sakura had difficulties falling asleep that night. Knowing that Kimimaro was just on the other side of her bedroom wall gave her a bit of a rush every time she thought about it. In the past two years, she'd wasted more hours of sleep than she cared to admit on little nighttime reveries involving a certain quiet presence, and now he was actually _here_ …

Again the realization hit her and made her heart skip a beat, again that rush of happy excitement coursed through her.

She tossed and turned until two in the morning, at which point she decided that she was not only restless but also starving because of her annoyed hunger strike the night before.

She pulled an oversized hoodie over her tank top and panties and made for the kitchen. By the light of a crescent moon, she cut up an apple and munched on a few slices.

The door to her office – Kimimaro's room, now – was ajar; she could see it out of the corner of her eye as she ate. She resisted the urge to look in on him, though she wanted to, because it might be rude, or weird, or creepy…

But, somehow, trying to focus on not looking in that direction made her want to look even more, to check in on him (why? What could he need that couldn't wait till morning?), to see if he was asleep (and if he was? And if he wasn't?), to… what else? What other dumb excuses was she going to come up with?

Sakura shook her head. The truth was, she just wanted to be near him – with him. But there was a fine line to tread between being with him and being _with_ with him. It was a line she wanted to touch, dance along, explore, but not actually cross, not yet – she had other things to resolve first. Things like Sasuke and a heart too afraid to try again…

She finished her last apple slice and it was time to go back to bed. And again that half-open door drew her attention. In a moment of self-indulgence (not to say, weakness) she walked past it under the pretext of going to the bathroom – maybe he _would_ be awake – and glanced in.

Kimimaro was sitting up in his bed, shirtless, his hair undone, his knees drawn up and his arms crossed over them. Sakura's breath caught in her throat. The soft glow of moonlight diffusing through closed curtains made him even more dazzling than usual.

Their eyes met as she passed his door. He'd known that she was there, of course – he had probably sensed her the minute she'd gotten out of bed.

Sakura tugged at her hoodie to make sure her bare thighs were more-or-less covered (they weren't, really) before looking in and trying to act nonchalant, like this hadn't been what she had hoped for.

"Hey – you're up."

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

"I hope I didn't wake you…?"

"No."

"Oh, good," said Sakura. "Um – how's the bed? Are you comfortable enough?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro, passing his hands over the sheets. "Very. Thank you."

"Okay, that's good…"

Sakura cast about for further things to ask him and her brain – her brilliant, much-vaunted brain, that had mastered all poisons and pioneered modern bladeless surgery and otherwise revolutionized medical ninjutsu – came up with absolutely nothing.

"Well," she said after a beat, "if everything's okay, I guess I'll – I'll go back to bed…"

"I cannot sleep," said Kimimaro.

Sakura pushed the door open a little wider and thought, _join the club_.

"How come?"

Kimimaro looked around the cozy room with its mismatched assortment of furniture and Sakura's book-laden shelves lining the walls, and the stacks of his new clothes piled on the dresser. "It is so strange to me. To be here."

"Strange…?"

"I am far away from Orochimaru," said Kimimaro. He looked down at his hands. "My body is mine. I have never been so strong.

"Now I am in a foreign village," he continued, gesturing to the window where Konoha sprawled sleepily on the other side of the curtains. "But. I do not have a mission. I am not here to kill anyone."

Kimimaro looked at Sakura and it seemed to her that his eyes shone with joy in the dark room. "I am with you – that is the strangest of all. I am with you. In your home. In Konohagakure. And I am permitted to be here. Welcomed, in a way. By the village. By you. I cannot believe it."

From Kimimaro, this unexpected verbosity approached actual enthusiasm, which was a novel thing to witness from someone so reserved.

Sakura smiled at him. "It's strange for me to have you here, too. In a good way, I mean. You're like a – well, something from another life. From that life in the Sound that feels like ages ago. I never thought I'd see you again, honestly. And – and never like this."

She looked down and tugged at the sleeve of her hoodie. "But – I'm glad you're here. You're safe…"

(She wanted to say, 'and with me,' but that was too much.)

"I am glad, too," said Kimimaro. He propped his chin into his hand and studied her. "Will you come in?"

"Um – n-no," stammered Sakura, "because – because we're being watched–"

(The curtains were closed, right, of course, she knew that.)

"–and I'm trying to be a good host and give you your space, you know," she finished lamely.

"I do not want space," said Kimimaro. "Not from you."

Sakura couldn't help the smile that dimpled her cheeks. That goddamned heartfelt sincerity did _things_ to her. And besides, she had wanted this to happen, hadn't she? She'd walked past his door on purpose; she'd hoped that he'd be awake.

But why – _why_ did she oscillate so madly between wanting to be with him and being so afraid? It was killing her, this back-and-forth, this relentless uncertainty; god, why couldn't she make up her damn mind, why did Sasuke haunt her with fear of repeating a disaster, with _guilt_ …

Sasuke was back now. Kimimaro had found him, like he promised he would, the man he thought she loved. (She'd told him otherwise, but.)

Sasuke was back. Maybe now she'd be able to get some goddamn closure and move on with her life.

Sakura took few steps into Kimimaro's room, emboldened by the thought.

Kimimaro observed her where she halted at the foot of his bed, her fingertips peeking out from her oversized sleeves, her hair falling over her shoulder, the one inch of tummy that was visible between her tank and the top of her panties when she moved and the unzipped hoodie opened at the front.

"A little closer," said Kimimaro, a glimmer of something like mischief in his eyes.

Sakura raised an eyebrow; she might've been being teased, but sometimes his teasings were too subtle…

"This close," said Kimimaro, holding out his arm. "I am told this is normal."

And Sakura laughed because those were her words from earlier – so yes, he was teasing her, in his quiet Kimimaro way.

"Fine," she said, taking a seat on his bed. "There. Better?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

Sakura settled herself against the wall and looked at him. They were treading so carefully around each other right now. He knew her well; he was reading her nervousness, her twitchiness, her avoidance of his touches. And he must've been so confused because, prior to his departure on the retrieval mission, when he was in that cell, she was all over him, as far as those bars permitted.

But there lay the difference; at this particular moment, she had no barriers, physical or otherwise – and somehow that was the biggest barrier of all.

And yet – despite these fantastically mixed messages that she was sending him – he wasn't forcing the issue. He pulled her in only as far as she had shown him she was comfortable, this silly arm's length thing, and he politely continued that 'normalcy' pretext, this 'best behaviour' thing, even when they both knew that right now, no one was watching.

He was so patient in the face of her indecision, her faltering, her vagaries. Personally, she found herself exhausting.

"You must wonder what the hell is wrong with me," said Sakura.

Kimimaro took a breath as though to answer. Then he let it out again and didn't say anything at all.

"I'm trying to – I've _been_ trying to – straighten out some personal issues, but…I'm having trouble. I've been burnt before, really badly…"

(She was being so vague and talking in such wide circles about her issues that he probably had no damn clue what she was even talking about.)

"…I just need time," said Sakura at length.

"I do not mind."

Sakura stared at the floor. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because one day I'm all over you and the next I'm not even letting you get close to me. It's stupid. I'm stupid."

"You are the least stupid person I know," said Kimimaro.

Sakura managed a tiny smile at this statement.

A companionable silence fell between them. Kimimaro produced a slender white blade and toyed with it – to keep his hands occupied, probably, though he would no doubt have preferred them to be occupied by her bare legs crossed at the ankles in front of him, or her hands where they fiddled with the cord of her hoodie – yes, no doubt he would prefer to be doing that. But he wouldn't push her; he would wait, because she told him she needed more time, because he loved her, because he respected the hell out of her…

It _would_ be nice, though…

"What are you thinking of?"

Kimimaro's even tones surprised Sakura out of a pleasant reverie. He was studying her and her daydreamy eyes with curiosity.

What was she thinking of? Oh, that was easy – that she wanted him to put away the knife and pull her gently under the sheets with him so they could lie there together and see what happened. And he'd do it, too, only she couldn't thaw out enough to let him…

"Oh I was just – thinking about what you said," said Sakura. "About me being the least stupid person you know. Now I'm curious – who's the stupidest person you know?"

(Good save. Fantastic save.)

Kimimaro snatched the blade out of the air and blinked at her. "Oh. I can answer that. However… I do not wish to offend you."

"I promise I won't be offended," said Sakura, actually finding herself interested in his answer now.

"Very well," said Kimimaro. "Perhaps not stupid. Not really. But. Naruto…"

Sakura couldn't hold back a laugh – she should've figured. "Oh, yeah. You're kind of opposites on the personality spectrum. How did you get along?"

"He is very…very…"

"Loud? Boisterous?"

Kimimaro nodded. "However. He has grown. When we last fought, he was full of anger. No control, only rage. Now he is learning to control himself."

"He _has_ been working hard on that," said Sakura. "He doesn't get riled up quite so easily as he used to…"

"And he is learning to control the beast inside him," said Kimimaro. "So. He is stronger than when I last fought him. Much stronger. This was good to see."

"How do you know? Did you two have a tussle?"

"We had a few…disagreements," said Kimimaro. "It was not serious. He is not often serious, Naruto."

He flipped his knife and caught it. "Until it comes to the Uchiha. Then, he is serious."

"They're best friends," said Sakura. Then she looked at the floor, uncertain, suddenly, of the veracity of this statement. "Or – they were. I don't know anymore."

"Yes," said Kimimaro. "I believe that he does not know anymore, either. When the Uchiha turned on him, he was angry. Bitterly."

"I can only imagine," said Sakura.

There was a pause during which Kimimaro seemed to be remembering something. "The one called Neji. His taijutsu… I have not seen such a technique before, this _Juuken_ … It was good."

"Oh, yeah. They have an interesting kekkei genkai, the Hyuugas. They're one of our oldest clans."

"Neji helped me," said Kimimaro, "when Kabuto thought to backstab me. That was not expected. I am thankful to him."

Sakura pulled her knees up and crossed her arms over them. She found herself oddly fascinated by Kimimaro's opinions of these people who she'd known for so long, and who were so new and strange to him.

"What'd you think of Gai?"

"Oh," said Kimimaro. "That one. He is also loud. But his taijutsu was very strong. He fought Kabuto after Neji could not. He did well."

His white blade, which had found a resting spot between two of his fingers, once again began its spiralling dance. "I would have liked to fight Kabuto. I have a score to settle with him. But. I was occupied."

Sakura gave Kimimaro and his blade a sidelong look. Occupied, yes – occupied with disemboweling some Sound ninjas at that point, if Kiba's recollection was correct. Which was odd to think about because to her, Kimimaro was the personification of reserve and gentleness and quietude. That side of him – the shinobi in action, the killer – was unknown to her, understood only in theory (she'd read about him, she'd seen him train) but never actually witnessed firsthand…

Kimimaro lifted his shoulders and let them drop. "Anyway. I will meet Kabuto again. One day. Then we will settle it."

He was talking about killing Kabuto. So calmly, so matter-of-factly. Again Sakura studied Kimimaro in the dark – those hands with their gentling touches that were capable of much worse. She remembered what Ino had seen and felt in Kimimaro's head during those final moments in the Sound; Kimimaro's anger at discovering that Kabuto had drugged her, to the point that Ino had thought that Kimimaro was going to kill him. But he didn't, in that moment, out of self-control and who knew what else – it wasn't the right time, it wasn't the right place…

Now he was ready to do it. It was a marvel, really, the way Kimimaro's desire for redress, this score settling business, was expressed in such serene terms. The way his words evinced no sign of the true intensity of his feelings. Just this little shrug and this quiet certainty; _we will settle it_. (So different from another who sought revenge and who declared it so grandiosely whenever he could, who styled himself an Avenger with a capital A…)

Kimimaro resumed his knife-play. Sakura watched his deft movements, the spinning of this lethal thing sharper than her scalpels from fingertip to fingertip, casting twirling shadows in the moonlit room.

"Kiba said you saw Orochimaru out there," said Sakura.

The blade spun once more and then stilled.

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

He fell silent for a long moment.

"He was so angry when he saw me," he said at length.

And then he wasn't a killer any more. He looked vulnerable, this young man with his bowed head, his downcast gaze, his hair falling across his face, whiter than the moonlight that touched it.

Sakura wondered how hard that moment must've been for him – to see his former master, whose opinion was once _everything_ to him, who he'd devoted such a large part of his young life to, out of his mind with rage…

It couldn't have been easy. Sakura shifted closer to Kimimaro and broke her own rules by putting a hand on his knee. (The justifications came fast and easy: no one could see; this was fine, it was platonic; _besides, just look at him…_ )

"I made my choice," said Kimimaro. He put his hand on hers and looked up at her. Then, with the utmost certitude: "It was the correct choice."

"It was," said Sakura. "You have a chance to live your life. You have a chance to be happy."

"A chance…? I _am_ happy."

It made her smile, that statement and all the conviction that accompanied it. "Good."

"Are you?" asked Kimimaro.

"Happy? Right now? Yes."

"Oh," said Kimimaro. "Good. You were not earlier."

Sakura blinked at him. "When do you mean?"

"When you first saw the Uchiha," said Kimimaro. "I thought you would be happy. But you were…something else."

Sakura remembered that look that Kimimaro had given her in the OR when she'd knelt beside Sasuke – the unspoken question when their eyes had met. "Oh. Yeah. I thought I'd be happy, too."

Kimimaro regarded Sakura contemplatively in the semi-darkness. She fiddled with the drawstring of her hoodie, wrapping it around one finger, then the next, then the next.

Outside, a cloud passed across the moon. The shadows around them deepened.

Sakura breathed out a sigh. "I thought it would've been a moment of pure joy, that moment when Sasuke was back. It's been such a long time coming."

"They said it has been ten years since he ran away. To join Otogakure."

"Yeah." Sakura leaned back and studied the ceiling. "Have you ever wanted something so much, for so long, that when it finally happens you can't really believe it? You're afraid to believe it?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

Sakura hadn't expected an answer to this vaguely rhetorical question. She looked up at him. "What was it?"

"This," said Kimimaro.

It wasn't fair, how he could make her blush with a single word. She turned away and felt his gaze on her, on her mussed-up hair, pale pink in the moonlight, on her bare legs stretched out across his bed, on her hands busying themselves with the drawstring.

"There were times, after you had left, that I did not believe you were real," said Kimimaro. "Even now, when you are here…"

He reached for her; his fingertips curled around a strand of her hair and then let it go. "You are like something from a dream."

Sakura blushed further; for a guy with such limited social skills, Kimimaro could be goddamn _smooth_ …

"I thought about you a great deal after you left," continued Kimimaro after a beat. "I told myself that perhaps I should forget you. That it would be for the best. But then…I kept forgetting to do that."

"I'm glad you didn't," said Sakura, unable to hold back the smile that his candid words evoked. "I didn't forget you. I missed you, actually. I missed the stupidest little things…"

She trailed off, not daring enough to say more. "Anyway – you're right about Sasuke.

I wasn't happy. I felt sorry for him. And I was – relieved, I guess. Because that chapter is finally over."

She pulled her hoodie more tightly around herself. "What's important is that he's back. He'll be safe here. Things are going to be better for him…"

Outside, the cloud passed and again the moonlight diffused its white glow through the curtains.

"You know, I just realized," said Sakura, looking up. "I haven't even thanked you. God – it's been one thing after another today, but it's the first thing I should've said to you. You did it. You found Sasuke. I owe you a huge – _huge_ – debt of gratitude, Kimimaro. I don't know how I'll ever repay you for doing what you did."

Kimimaro lifted a shoulder, like this was hardly worth mentioning. "It is only a partial repayment of my debt to you. A very small part…"

" _A_ _very small part?_ " repeated Sakura. "No. You need to understand – finding him has been my goal – Konoha's goal – for the last decade. You accomplished something that I never could. That this whole village never could. And not for lack of trying, either. This is major."

"He was not difficult to track," said Kimimaro, toying with his knife again. "It was nothing…"

"It's not just the tracking that I'm talking about," said Sakura. "You ran into Orochimaru. You risked your life for him. Things could've been so much worse…"

Sakura frowned. She hadn't yet had time to process the full ramifications of the fight, and it was just dawning on her quite how badly things could've gone. "If Orochimaru had got you… God, I don't even want to think about it."

"But. He did not."

"I know, but he _could've_. He was right there. How would I live with myself?"

"Nothing happened," said Kimimaro again. "This was nothing—"

"Stop saying that."

"—compared to what I owe you."

"Kimimaro."

"Nothing."

They stared at each other, then, not quite a glare, but almost – willful green against obstinate darker green.

"We aren't going to agree on this, are we?" said Sakura.

"No," said Kimimaro.

Sakura settled her back against the wall and huffed. They eyed each other, too convinced of their respective correctness and too certain that the other was wrong, to back down.

They were both right in a way, of course. After mulling it over for a few quiet moments, Sakura could admit that to herself, if not to him. Because yes, she'd been instrumental in giving Kimimaro his life back – and he was right, that was a big deal. But he'd been instrumental in helping her achieve a goal that had obsessed her for the last 10 years, which was also a goddamn big deal…

Kimimaro's knife spun in perfect circles between his dexterous fingers. Sakura lost herself in watching the whirling blade as she mused, the white flicker in the moonlight, the way he made it look easy.

He saw her watching and, eventually, gave her the knife – a kind of peace offering, perhaps.

Sakura took it and passed her fingers over it. It was a beautiful thing – so simple in design and yet the perfect size and shape to slide between ribs and into a heart.

She flexed at the blade with a little chakra in her fingertips and it did not give at all.

And it was familiar, that moment. She'd done this before, this curious examination of one of his weapons. This was a kind of déjà vu. As she passed her fingers along the flat of the blade, she found herself once again back in Otogakure, back on her cot with engraved walls rising around her, and Kimimaro on her cot with her, showing her the Shikotsumyaku for the first time. And she was toying with the bone senbon he'd just produced, and marvelling at his strength, and marvelling at him…

Only back then he could barely get a dozen words out in her presence – and now they'd lingered in effortless conversation for an hour. Back then, he was enslaved by the seal and still healing from his surgery. And now he was free, and healthy, and beautiful.

Back then he wanted her a little, though he didn't really know it – and now…

"This reminds me of that time…" began Sakura.

She didn't need to specify. Kimimaro nodded. "I remember."

"Such a long time ago," said Sakura, setting the knife aside.

She scooted closer, positioned herself in front of him, sat back on her heels, and looked at him playfully. "I was like this? I think?"

"Yes," said Kimimaro.

She reached down to untangle his legs from the sheets. "And you were like this. No. Like this."

Kimimaro looked down and nodded.

"And then…. this…"said Sakura, her hand pressed to his chest. She sent some chakra into his system, just for the hell of it, because why not replicate the moment perfectly…

Kimimaro reached up and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Sakura emerged from her brief chakra scan to find his hand on her cheek. His palm was warm against her skin – warm and setting her a-tingle.

Their eyes met. And then something in the air changed: it grew charged with wants long-standing and long-unvoiced, with a deep-rooted tension, with memories of things left unfinished…

"I wanted to kiss you, then," said Kimimaro. Their faces were close together now – so close that she could feel his words flutter across her skin. "It was – so confusing to me. I had never had such a feeling before."

(What feeling? Oh, this feeling? This crazy, thrilling impulse to lean in right now and finish what they'd started all those years ago? That feeling…?)

In a voice hardly above a whisper because she hardly dared ask, Sakura said, "Do you still want to?"

Her question took a while to sink in – or perhaps Kimimaro didn't believe he'd heard her correctly. Either way, he looked up at her in a kind of daze before speaking again.

"Yes," he said. "More than anything…"

Yes. Yes, he wanted to. And she wanted to too, of course; it was why she had fabricated a flimsy excuse to come into his room and why she had lingered there; it was why she was on her knees in front of him right now, as close as it was possible to be without actually sitting on him.

_More than anything._ Sakura wasn't quite seeing straight anymore. Her head was spinning, her blood coursed with a strange buoyancy, and all that existed was his hand on her cheek, and his parted lips before her, and the breaths that they were exchanging more quickly now…

She leaned in and nudged the side of his nose with hers, then took a breath and closed her eyes – and, simultaneously, the little space that remained between their mouths.

Against her lips came an intake of breath – and then a sigh that might well have been the word, _finally_ …

His hand slid from her cheek to the nape of her neck and pulled her more closely into the kiss – and then came that surge of light-headedness and that racing pulse that she hadn't experienced in years. Not since she had last felt his lips on hers…

So they shared a long, slow succession of kisses, gorgeous moments frequently daydreamed of and long anticipated. His mouth was warm against hers and, after a time, smiling. And she was smiling too, but she also kind of wanted to cry, though she wasn't sure why.

They pulled back, bumped noses, breathed. Kimimaro looked at her with dream-filled eyes, not believing that this was real, perhaps, or perhaps having done this in dreams so many times that now he was, for all intents and purposes, in one again…

After those few breaths, they found that breathing was less important than finding each other's mouths again – a deeper kiss, this time, to taste (toothpaste; apples).

He passed his hands over her hips with a slow adoration that approached reverence (and oh her heart raced) and slid one around the small of her back, and pulled her towards him. She moved up closer, clambered onto him, and tangled her fingers into his hair, and granted him another kiss, soft and gentling, that held all the things she couldn't yet say to him but wanted to.

And he kissed her back just as gently, as though she truly was some dream-vision that might vanish if he went too fast. His eyes were alight; he seemed on the verge of saying something… But he could only pull back and look at her with such longing and love that it made her heart wrench.

They breathed at each other, thrilled, uncertain.

"What are we doing?" asked Sakura in a breathless whisper.

"I do not know," said Kimimaro in a whisper just as breathless.

Sakura pressed her forehead to his, searching his eyes, but there was no answer there, unless love was an answer…

There they remained for a long, breathy moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning around them.

"You need time," said Kimimaro. "I am sorry. I cannot – cannot always think straight when you are close…"

He looked down at where Sakura was nestled against him, at her bare legs on either side of his waist. She felt his hand on her thigh tighten; his forehead found a resting place on her shoulder. "…And you have never been this close."

"Don't be sorry," said Sakura, running her fingers over his bare shoulder. "I'm not. Not even remotely…"

They held each other for little while more, savouring the slow-burning thrill of the moment, that delicious pull of mutual longing.

Slowly Sakura untangled herself from him, first one leg, then the other, and sat back. "I – I should go. It's really late. Or – early, I'm not sure…"

Kimimaro nodded at her, once again the picture of quiet impassivity.

Sakura climbed off his bed. "Goodnight Kimimaro."

"Goodnight."

She pulled her hoodie more tightly around herself as she left his room. Without his arms around her, she was so cold…


	26. Chapter 26

It was a little surreal to Sakura to come out of the shower the next morning and see Kimimaro in her kitchen. Kimimaro freaking Kaguya, sitting on her counter, pulling apart a sweet bun and eating it in small bites.

"Hello," said Kimimaro.

"Good morning," said Sakura. Her incredulity lingered as she watched him eat and she burst into a laugh. "This is so weird…"

"I know," said Kimimaro.

Sakura helped herself to a bun, too, and joined him on his perch on the counter. They ate together and eyed each other like neither of them was certain that this was real.

"I'm off today," said Sakura. "But – even on my off days I somehow end up at the hospital more often than not… I was thinking of visiting the rest of the squadron this morning to see how they're doing."

She didn't mention Sasuke, though she was also keen to find out how he had passed the night. Kimimaro voiced no objection to this plan, and so they finished their breakfast with a mango shared between the two of them and took off along the rooftops towards the General.

They found that Shikamaru, Naruto, and Kiba had been discharged earlier that morning with only minor ailments remaining. Yamato and Ino were still in, recovering from their extreme chakra depletion, and Neji and Gai were under observation until evening.

When they dropped by Gai's room, a flash of orange legwarmers at the door caught Sakura's and Kimimaro's attention: Lee was peering at Kimimaro in rapt fascination. However, when he saw that he had been spotted, he flushed magnificently and disappeared with some excuse about checking on Neji.

Sakura watched Lee go, bemused, and Kimimaro twitched an eyebrow. Then whatever thoughts Kimimaro might've been pondering about Lee's behaviour vanished when he was pulled (literally, by the front of his shirt) into an intense discussion with Gai about his taijutsu, Gai's taijustu, and Youth and Energy.

As Kimimaro rarely attempted to get a word in edgewise or otherwise, Gai found him to be an excellent listener and very receptive to the wisdom that he was imparting unto him. Sakura watched the one-sided exchange in quiet amusement for a while and then, as it seemed to be going well, she asked Gai to keep an eye on Kimimaro as his Official Custodian for ten minutes while she made the rest of her rounds. Gai agreed to this great honour with Pride and Enthusiasm. (Kimimaro looked less enthusiastic, but then Gai asked him to explain these Stupendous Reflexes of his, and he seemed a little keener.)

Sakura left them to it and made her way down the hall to where a handful of Jounin were keeping watch around a door. This entire floor of the hospital had been closed off to the public, but there was one room in particular that was guarded more heavily than the rest: Sasuke's.

Genma was on duty that morning. He leaned against the wall and watched Sakura approach, flicking his perennial senbon up and down in a bored kind of way.

"Hey. You sure you wanna go in there?" he asked. "The Fifth hasn't slept all night."

"I can handle it," said Sakura.

Genma shrugged as he pulled open the door for her. "You got more balls than I do."

"Shut the damn door, you _imbecile_ , I'm _trying_ to _concentrate_ ," thundered Tsunade's voice as the door creaked open.

Genma stuttered an apology (dropping his precious senbon in the process), shoved Sakura into the room, and slammed the door shut behind her.

As for Sakura, she was unfazed by this display, as she had been bellowed at far louder and been called far worse over her years of training with Tsunade. She entered the dim room to find Jiraiya sprawled out on the floor, sound asleep in spite of Tsunade's tirade.

Tsunade herself was illuminated by the green glow of healing chakra: her hands were on Sasuke's chest.

"Oh, it's you," said Tsunade in a tone that veered more towards fatigue now than grouchiness.

Sakura stepped over Jiraiya gingerly. "Any progress…?"

"Still nothing," said Tsunade. "As far as I can tell, his system is just exhausted. He needs time."

Sakura joined her at Sasuke's side. She noticed that he had been washed since she'd last seen him and that his matted hair had been cut and tidied up. Despite these little cosmetic improvements, he looked awful: drained, with hollow eye-sockets and hollower cheeks, and white lips pulled downwards as though he were in pain.

"Poor kid," said Tsunade, looking down at Sasuke, empathy softening her gaze for a moment. "Can't blame his body for shutting the hell down. On the run from Orochimaru for months, and then that fight with his brother, and then a fight with the retrieval squad, including a half-unleashed Jinchuriki…"

"And a cursed seal extraction to top it off," said Sakura, shaking her head.

Sasuke was so thin, so tired – it made him look old beyond his years. It made him look dead. Sakura touched her fingertips to the back of his white hand and sent in a spark of chakra, just to make sure he wasn't. And yes, that superficial scan told her everything was in order – everything was working properly – only it wasn't, because his mind and body had finally said no, they had had enough, and it was time to plunge deeply into this unnatural rest…

Tsunade nodded. "He hasn't had it easy. But he's alive and he's safe."

"Yes," said Sakura. "And he's in good hands here."

"That reminds me. What's your workload like this week? I was going to assign you to his case as the medical lead."

"…Oh? Yeah, I could do it," said Sakura.

There was a pause as Tsunade observed Sakura – took in her neutral tone, her downturned face, the notable absence of overjoyed enthusiasm that, a few years ago, would have greeted such a suggestion because it had been her dream to work on him, heal him, make him better, make him hers…

"Do you want to?" asked Tsunade.

And Sakura stared at Sasuke's hand where it lay near hers. The last time that hand had been this close to her, it held a fistful of lightning ready to end her. And then it had held the kunai that nearly killed Kimimaro, because he was in the way of Sasuke's second attempt to kill her. (The memory came back to her in a flood: that moment of horror when Kimimaro touched his shirt along the left side and blood, far too much blood, seeped through when his regenerative abilities were still too slow to take care of this kind of wound, and if she'd been anything but an outstanding medic-nin, she would've lost him…)

Sakura's lack of an answer created a vacuum, uncomfortable and unyielding; she could feel it pressing against her ears, and she couldn't even bring herself to say, "I don't know," because that would've been a lie…

As for Tsunade, she was looking at Sakura as though this silence confirmed something that she had suspected.

"You know, Shizune's done some work on cursed seals," said Tsunade with deliberate casualness. "When Jiraiya pulled Anko's all those years ago, it was Shizune who was in charge of her aftercare."

Sakura bit her lip. Sakura Haruno, medic-nin extraordinaire, would be more than capable of handling Sasuke's case – and Tsunade knew that. But Sakura, just Sakura, the young woman weighed down by years of emotional turmoil and suffering caused by Sasuke, really didn't want to work on him now that she was being presented with the opportunity. She didn't want to be in intimate physical contact with him as she healed him. She didn't want to spend hours in his bad-tempered company.

And perhaps Tsunade knew that, too, because she was offering Sakura a way out.

And you know what? She was going to take it.

"That's right – I'd forgotten," said Sakura. "And you know seals have never been my forte…"

"I could pull Shizune off some of her other files," said Tsunade. "It wouldn't be a problem. She'd be glad to do more hands-on work; she's been missing it."

Sakura glanced up at Tsunade. This kind of delicacy in treating difficult issues was out of character for her usually blunt mentor, but it was, at this moment, very appreciated.

"I like that idea. I'd be glad to defer to Shizune's expertise on this."

"You only want the best for Sasuke," said Tsunade.

"Of course," said Sakura dutifully.

"I'll let Shizune know."

"Thank you."

Their eyes met and Sakura hoped that Tsunade would understand her unspoken gratitude for this perfect pretext that no one would question, that would mean she wouldn't have to spend hours healing this man who had twice attempted to kill her – and smashed her heart up to the point that she doubted her capacity to love again.

"Good, so that's settled," said Tsunade, and she, very kindly, changed the topic. "I found the bone fragment that Kimimaro tracked him with. It was a piece of a distal phalange. Lodged in the back of Sasuke's neck, near the rhomboid minor. What did Kimimaro do, stab him with his pinky?"

"Oh – that would've been one of his bullets. It's one of his techniques, the Teshi Sendan…"

"Ah. Well, it was minuscule – it wasn't pressing against anything vital, or interfering majorly with any joint or muscle functions, so…"

There was something in her tone that made Sakura raise an eyebrow. "Tsunade… you didn't actually remove it?"

Tsunade glanced at her and gave her the tiniest conspiratorial smile. "No. Not yet."

"Not yet…?"

"For now, I happen to want Sasuke…traceable," said Tsunade.

"Oh…"

Tsunade contemplated Sasuke's unmoving figure. "We'll see what he's like when he wakes up – what version of Sasuke we've been left with. And we'll see what the fallout is following this Orochimaru business. And then – if I'm satisfied that things have stabilized and he's not going to get a wild hair and go traipsing off after his brother again – _then_ we'll see about removing it."

"How will we know he won't go traipsing? It's kind of been his modus operandi his whole life…"

"You haven't spoken to Ino yet?"

"Not yet…"

"Go see her," said Tsunade. "She saw something while she was in Itachi's head. Something that might change things for Sasuke…"

VVV

Ino smiled weakly as Sakura entered her room a few minutes later. She was looking a little wan but nevertheless beautiful, regal almost, sitting up in bed with her hair ribboning along the pillows in long twists of blonde and the room around her blooming with flowers from her many friends and admirers.

"Aww, look at you. You're like a princess from a fairytale," said Sakura, shutting the door behind her.

Ino wrinkled her nose. "Do princesses have to use bedpans? 'Cause I do. And it's gross."

"They didn't have indoor plumbing back then," said Sakura. "Maybe you're being historically accurate."

She picked her way to Ino's bedside amidst sprays of calla lilies, bunches of hydrangeas and peonies, and lush, oversized bouquets of roses. "So how are you? Are they taking care of you properly? Do I need to fire anyone?"

"I'm fine. They're all very nice, your hospital peeps," said Ino. Then she frowned. "Well – you _can_ fire whatever carb-happy doofus is in charge of the food. Why is _everything_ pasta and rice? Hm? I have clothes I'd like to fit into when I get out of here?"

Sakura grinned. If she was griping about carbs, then Ino was definitely feeling better. "Duly noted. Everyone else is doing well – there's only you and Yamato left hospitalized. Gai and Neji are still here, but they're going to be discharged soon. Do you know how lucky we were that there were so few serious injuries?"

"We're damn lucky we got to pit Itachi and Orochimaru against each other and hightail it the hell out of there," said Ino. "I was so relieved when Kakashi made that call. No goddamn heroics. We were all already hitting our limits…"

"I heard. Kiba told me the story."

"Oh, did he?" asked Ino. Then, unconsciously, she glanced at a little bunch of flowers on her side table: a scraggly collection of wildflowers held together with a bit of twine. The bundle stood in stark contrast to the luxurious bouquets that were perfuming Ino's room – and yet, it was the one she'd chosen to put closest to her. Sakura held back a smile and elected not to comment, though she had a shrewd guess as to who those came from.

"How's Sasuke?" asked Ino.

"Still out cold. Tsunade and Jiraiya spent the night with him. He'll come to, eventually, but it's going to take some time. He's completely wiped – the fights, the seal removal…"

"Well, he'll have the most talented, gorgeous medic-nin in the world at his side when he comes to," said Ino, giving Sakura a dazzling smile and reaching for her hand. "You'll get him on his feet in no time. He's back, Sakura. Oh my god, you must be so happy…!"

Sakura didn't meet Ino's eyes. "Yes – I'm happy, of course. But it's going to be Shizune who'll be taking care of him. Tsunade and I decided it would be best–"

" _What…?_ Not you? Why?!"

"She's got experience dealing with the aftereffects of cursed seal extractions," said Sakura, hoping to downplay this like it wasn't a big deal. "She dealt with Anko way back when they pulled hers out. So she knows more about follow-up care for this kind of case than I would."

Hoping that this neat, logical explanation would close the issue, Sakura changed the subject. "So anyway, Tsunade said–"

Unfortunately, Ino was not ready to let it go quite so easily. She held up her hand. "Excuse me? Shizune? Is going to take care of the love of your life? Whose return you've been pining for this past decade?"

"Yes…"

"And you're being _this_ chill about it?!"

"Ino – this isn't an unusual practice at the hospital," said Sakura. "Shizune has the expertise that I don't have. It makes way more sense for it to be her and not me… It's really not a big deal…"

Piercing blue eyes drilled into guarded green. "Um? It _is_ a big deal? Sakura, this moment has been, like, daydream fodder for you for years and years… I'd know, you rambled about it a _lot_ whenever we'd hit our third bottle of wine…"

"It's for the best for him, and I – _we_ all want the best for him. That's all."

"That's not really all," said Ino, frowning at her. "But if that's the story you want to go with…"

Those eyes could see too much. Sakura turned away. She'd been strong in front of Tsunade, but in the face of Ino's scrutiny, she felt herself starting to weaken. She was tired, so tired, of hiding things, of pretending that things hadn't changed…

"It is," said Sakura.

She heard Ino's long sigh somewhere behind her.

"Fine," said Ino. "We'll go with that. Everyone _else_ will buy it because it makes just enough sense, but _I_ don't. Tch. Shizune taking care of Sasuke for you. As _if._ "

Sakura stared out the window and didn't answer.

"Also," said Ino, "I'd like to register my offense that you're hiding shit from me _again_ when all I want to do is help you…"

"You can't help me," said Sakura. "There's shit I need to untangle myself. You can't help…"

She felt her careful self-control begin to fray. Was this it? Was this the time to let go, here in this quiet hospital room with the closed door and her best friend at her side? She didn't know – she hadn't thought this through; she hadn't planned it. She'd kept this not-loving-Sasuke thing to herself as the village untangled the Kimimaro imbroglio, but that was over now, wasn't it? That was settled, so maybe she could loosen her death grip on her heart's little secrets?

She had just tacitly confirmed to Tsunade that she no longer had feelings for Sasuke – at least, not the same kind of feelings, and certainly not as strong. And the world hadn't exploded. So maybe? Did she dare?

"Why not?" asked Ino.

"Because…"

"Because what?" pressed Ino.

" _Because_ ," said Sakura, taking a shaky breath, "god, Ino, I don't…"

"You don't what?"

Sakura held her face in her hands.

"…Sakura?" came Ino's voice, softer now.

Sakura heard a shuffle behind her – the sound of Ino feebly trying to get out of bed. Her concern for Ino's well-being superseded her desire for a moment of privacy; she turned and pushed her back into bed with some whispered sniffly scoldings.

Ino held onto her forearm and didn't let her turn away again. "Wait – Sakura, wait – you don't what?"

Sakura looked away.

"I thought you…" began Ino. "Don't you want to be with Sasuke?"

Sakura stared wordlessly at her.

"Sakura…?"

Sakura didn't answer. And, for a long time as she watched her, Ino didn't say anything either – until the slow surge of realization peaked, and her idea of Sakura, her understanding of this girl who was perpetually, profoundly, relentlessly in love with Sasuke, was shattered.

"…You don't love him anymore," whispered Ino. Her shocked, wide eyes scoured Sakura's face as though she was suddenly a stranger to her. "Holy shit. Since when…?"

It took Sakura a long time to formulate a response. The loud silence of the hospital fell upon them: hurried footsteps in the hallway, the sound of a gurney being trundled past the door, the PA system announcing something in an unintelligible monotone, a crying child.

"I'm not sure," said Sakura. She took a long breath, trying to remember the shift, the moment. "It was so gradual that I didn't even notice it happening. I only _realized_ it all of a sudden one day – one day while I was in Otogakure, thinking about what I'd agreed to do for him. I realized that I cared about him and I worried about him, but the other things had faded away…"

Ino was, for once in her life, speechless.

"It's hard to love someone who – who you mattered to so little that eight years passed without a damn word," said Sakura with a bitter smile. "And who subsequently tried to kill you. Twice. It's not _normal_ to love someone like that. It's not _healthy_. I was just so wrapped up in loving him, this vanished man, in the beautiful calamity of it all that I couldn't admit it to myself for a long time…"

Ino stared at her knees.

To Sakura, it was a blessed relief to finally be talking to someone about this, and all of her thoughts and doubts and fears began to pour out. "Do you know what this experience has done to me? Loving Sasuke? It's damaged me, Ino. So very badly. I didn't realize the full extent of it until I…until quite recently. I'm scared – I'm fucking _terrified_ – of ever falling in love again."

"Oh, Sakura, why did you never say anything…" breathed Ino.

"There was nothing to say. Until a few months ago, I couldn't even admit these things to myself. But I've been thinking – I've been _realizing_. This boy – this man – I gave him my heart and soul. I loved him for years and years. Everything about me was about him – when I trained, when I worked, when I _dreamed_ … My life's ambition was being good enough for him, so he'd let me be with him. He was my all."

Ino nodded; there was nothing else to do. It was all true.

"Fifty-seven retrieval missions, Ino. Risking my neck, risking the lives of dozens of others, to find Sasuke – who didn't want to be found, who never wanted to come back to me. And not once, not _once_ did he write me a single goddamn letter, never a sign of life…"

Ino was now looking at her with tear-filled eyes and a heart that was breaking for her.

Sakura shook her head. "You know, it sounds like I'm blaming him – but I'm not. He was just a kid. He got messed up by that seal. And – regardless of any of that, he always had a hundred other priorities above me: his brother, Orochimaru, his clan, his revenge. But he was _my_ number one priority and I never managed to move past it. And you and Naruto and Tsunade and Kakashi, and everyone else – all of you were far too kind to me. I wish someone had told me to move the fuck on. Harshly. I know you tried, all of you, in your own way. I know, but god damn – I needed a slap to the face. I was in love with the idea of a man…"

"Sakura, you can't be this hard on yourself…"

Sakura took a breath. "Yes. I can. Just – just look at the _facts_. The very last time he touched me? Do you know when that was? It was the night he left Konoha – his fist slamming into my head. And then, when I saw him again, eight years later, he tried to do it again, with a goddamn chidori for good measure…"

"Sakura–"

"And now I'm so hurt, I'm so burnt, I'm so _ruined_. I never want to let myself love again, even if–"

Here Sakura cut herself off. Even if she thought she might be able to, even if there might be someone else two rooms down from this one, a man whose hands had never, and would never, be raised against her in violence, who had left his village and the world he knew to come to her, who loved her beyond what she could possibly deserve.

"You were just a kid. He was just a kid," said Ino.

"I know. We were just kids, all of us. And he got over it. And you. You got over him, too. You didn't let it consume you. You didn't let it make you sick. You didn't let it leave you _broken…_ "

Sakura dropped her face into her hands and sat on Ino's bed in silence. And Ino sat next to her and pulled her arm around her shoulder and held her as tightly as her exhausted body would allow.

"I'm the worst friend in the world," said Ino at length.

"Shut up. You aren't."

"I always – I just wanted to support you. I was a bossy little bitch when we were kids, but I grew out of that, and I didn't want to tell you what to do with your own damn life. And then – I always _assumed_ you still had feelings for him. I never even thought about the _possibility_ … I feel like an idiot…"

"I never gave you a reason to think anything had changed."

"Fuck. This is like if I told you I wasn't really a Yamanaka, or something just as mind-numbing. It's just – a huge part of what I know of you. What I thought I knew of you."

"I know," said Sakura. "Why do you think I've struggled with this so much? You're right. I made him a huge part of me. I'm only just starting to understand the loss – the absolute waste – of hours and hours of my life thinking about him, wishing he'd come back, pouring all of my love into him. But it was always a one-way street – no, it was a dead end. And I've been blind. _Blind._ "

Sakura took in a deep breath. "I just want to stop hurting."

"You will, you _will_. It'll take time, ages, maybe, but–"

"An eternity, for all I care. I never want to love again."

"Don't say that." Ino pulled Sakura against her. "Sakura, you just – you love in the same way you do everything else. Never in half-measures. You always give 120 percent, for everything – your training, your job, your fights. That's just you. It's how you roll. Above and beyond, always."

Ino squeezed her more tightly. "And that's how you love, too. I don't think you could do it any other way. So whoever – whoever comes next, if there's anyone, ever again, who'd ever deserve you… be careful, be picky, be _certain_ …"

"I will," whispered Sakura.

They clung to each other in silence. Long minutes passed; in the hall, the chatter of nurses sounded, a distant bell rang, the squeaky wheels of the food carts rolled by as the lunch hour approached.

"I want veto powers on whoever might be next," said Ino. "Okay? I won't let you fall for another Sasuke."

"Okay," said Sakura with a tired smile.

"I'll wring out his brain, whoever it ends up being. And if I have the slightest shadow of a doubt, his chance with you ends right there. And maybe I kill him, too, for good measure. I haven't decided yet."

"This poor hypothetical man," said Sakura. (And then, having thought about it, she wanted to smile more widely because, in a way, Ino had already undergone that process with a possible 'whoever' and the 'whoever' had not been found wanting…)

Ino sat back into her pillows. "Shit, though. This is some hefty stuff you just dumped on me."

"You wanted to know," said Sakura. "Now you know."

"That'll teach me to care."

"Yeah," said Sakura. "Serves you right. Now let's talk about something else, okay – I'm so done thinking about Sasuke…"

Ino passed her hands over her face. "Yeah. Let's. I'm going to need some time to digest this."

"Okay – good," said Sakura. "This is me changing the subject now. When I was talking to Tsunade, she said you'd seen something about Itachi…? What was that about?"

"Oh," said Ino, sitting up straighter. "Yeah. That. Holy shit. Kiba told you I got into Itachi's head for a couple seconds?"

"He did. I'm not sure if you're stupid or brave."

"Stupid, absolutely," said Ino with a decisiveness that surprised Sakura. "Anyway, it was five seconds in the real world but hours in Itachi's mind – I can put up a good fight when I want to, you know, and he was distracted, and I needed to show him what I'd seen in Kimimaro's head – what Sasuke had become under Orochimaru – so that he'd lay off us…"

"Yeah, and apparently it worked, and you're a genius."

"I _am_ , thank you, it's nice to finally get some recognition. Anyway – after I'd flicked those images up to Itachi of Sasuke-crazy-eyes, I managed to get a glimpse of some stuff, stuff Itachi was suppressing _hard_. So, naturally, I got curious…"

"Naturally," said Sakura. "But – god, Ino, you should've known better than to stay longer than necessary in the head of one of the most dangerous genjutsu users alive…"

"I know, I know, shush – let me finish before you lecture me."

Sakura crossed her arms and sat back.

"These memories were very – very _sore_ for Itachi, is how I'd describe it, and tightly defended. In the few I saw of these clan meetings and conversations in the dark, it looked like – well, there were enough hints to _infer_ that his murder of his clan wasn't just him being a complete psycho…"

"What do you mean?"

"It looked like the Uchihas were all involved in some kinda plotting – a coup of some kind – and he wanted to stop it and save the Leaf. And make sure his little brother was kept well out of it. And the only way that he could think of to do it – he was 13, so I'm not gonna judge the decision-making skills here – was to kill everybody except Sasuke…"

" _What?!_ "

"I know. That's what I said – thought – a little too loudly, while I was in there, and then Itachi really started to focus on me instead of Kakashi and Gai who were giving him grief in the real world. He was like, _what do you think you're doing?_ and I was like _oh nothing, I'm lost, can you help me find the exit?_ and he has no sense of humour, this guy, so he was like _get out before I blow out your brains_ , which obviously pissed me off, and I was like _go ahead and try you murderous weasel_ and I bitch-slapped him mentally and we had a pretty nasty fight in his head. He's strong, I'm slippery – but eventually he just surged me the hell out of his mind with pure willpower, and I was completely drained from the strain of resisting it, and the next thing I knew I was waking up here…"

Sakura's hands were pressed to her mouth. "Oh my god, Ino, that was so _reckless_ of you, to put up a fight?! With _Itachi?_ You should've just left…"

Ino looked rueful for a rare moment. "It was. I know. I have my pride and it made me rash. Anyway – it was worth it, at least I hope so. I've told Tsunade and they're going to investigate and see if there's any truth to what I saw. This is going to change things for Sasuke, too, if it's real. If it turns out his brother was protecting him from his own family's ambitions."

"Damn…" breathed Sakura. "Damn. If it's true, do you know what this is going to mean for him? It's going to leave him directionless. Purposeless. Ino – he made this revenge thing part of him – just as badly, as stupidly, as I made loving him such a part of me."

"Yeah."

Now it was Sakura's turn to run her hands down her face. "Killing his brother is why he abandoned the village. It's why he ran off with Orochimaru and has been a fugitive from the Leaf for the last ten years…"

Ino looked grim. "Mm. It's going to be like – an epiphany, but not a good one. I dunno. Maybe he'll still want to kill his brother. He still murdered their whole family…?"

"Maybe," said Sakura. "Either way…this information is going to shatter Sasuke's world."

There was something a little vengeful in the look Ino gave her. "Right now, I don't mind. He shattered yours enough."

"The fault for that doesn't lie with him," said Sakura.

"Well, it kind of does…"

"No. He never gave me a reason to believe that he reciprocated any of my feelings. Beyond the basics of being teammates and trying to look out for each other, insofar as kids could… The rest was all me. My own fabrication, my own little-girl delusions. He sure as hell gave me plenty of reasons _not_ to love him, though…"

Ino was about to open her mouth to respond when a knock sounded on the door and an orderly wheeled in with a food cart. The young woman was immediately nervous at the sight of Sakura, who was something of a legend in the hospital's hallways. She set up Ino's tray with trembling hands: rice, broth, water, jello, and a copy of the morning's paper.

"If there's anything else, pleaseletmeknowalrightgoodbye," squeaked the orderly before vanishing out the door.

"Oh _joy_ , more carbs," said Ino at the sight of the bowl of rice. She pushed it away from herself in disgust, which caused the folded-over newspaper to fall off the edge of the tray and into her lap.

Then Ino glanced down at the newspaper and made Sakura jump because, inexplicably, she shrieked.

Then Sakura took the newspaper from her and also shrieked.

 _ROGUE OTOGAKURE SHINOBI ENGAGED TO TOP KONOHA MEDIC,_ declared the headline. A photograph of Sakura in a lab coat smiled brightly below it.

"What the _hell?_ " said Sakura, looking from the newspaper to Ino and back again in slack-jawed disbelief.

Ino was equally slack-jawed. "Am I hallucinating right now? Are _we?_ "

She yanked the newspaper out of Sakura's hands and scanned the story. "Sakura Haruno was abducted two years ago blah blah… Healed a Sound ninja blah blah… Communiqué from Council released yesterday confirms that he has defected from the Sound, okay yes I know… Deal was made with him to remain in Konoha if he found Sasuke Uchiha, yes yes whatever, Mr. Kaguya found the missing Uchiha boy as agreed, blah blah… _In a surprising turn of events, a source close to Ms. Haruno confirmed last night that Mr. Kaguya and Ms. Haruno are engaged_ …"

"Oh my god," said Sakura into her palms. "How. How. _How_ is this my life?"

"Wow," said Ino. "You know, you _could've_ told me…"

Sakura snatched the newspaper back out of her hands. "It's not true. Don't be stupid, of course it's not true. Oh my god, I told Ms. Kuchi that Kimimaro and I were _otherwise engaged_ last night, as in, we were busy and not about to go hold a press conference with the journalists downstairs? Not that we were _actually engaged?!_ I'm going to kill her."

Ino yanked the paper back out of Sakura's grip and read out more of the story, shrieking with laughter as she quoted the more ludicrous bits about star-crossed lovers and love in the face of adversity and suppositions about Mr. Kaguya and Ms. Haruno's upcoming nuptials and other fantastic nonsense.

Sakura fell face-first onto Ino's bed. "Kill me."

"No," said Ino, wiping away a tear. "This is _way_ more fun…"

Sakura screamed something incoherent into the blankets. Then she left Ino to her cackling, snatched Kimimaro out of Gai's room, and stormed off to the offices of the _Konoha Kourier_ to convince them, not very gently, to publish an erratum the next day.

When he saw the headline himself at the _Kourier_ 's headquarters, Kimimaro made no comment, though his eyebrows raised a fraction and he looked as amused as it was possible for him to look without actually grinning.

VVV

(Art by the lovely Matilda!)


	27. Chapter 27

A few days later, Tsunade's reconnaissance squad sent in a report from the battlefield. They had found the place torn up to the point of being unrecognizable, with bodies scattered everywhere in varying states of dismemberment.

Orochimaru and Kabuto did not number among the dead, and neither did Itachi Uchiha. However, judging by the body count of Sound nin, Otogakure's total population was now reduced to two – news which was happily received in Konoha. Squadrons were deployed to track Orochimaru and Kabuto while they were still, presumably, in a weakened state from the fight.

With the Sound's forces so debilitated, Tsunade relented on her paranoid decision to have Sakura constantly under ANBU surveillance. She lifted the watch on Sakura with a wry comment that, anyway, they knew for a fact that Kimimaro was easily worth three of them and he was always at her side, so it was a goddamn waste of resources at this point.

As for Sasuke, under Shizune's care he improved noticeably: every day there was more colour in his pale cheeks, less strain in his drawn lips. But he remained unresponsive and unaware of the visitors that dropped by – Naruto and Sakura daily, and others more occasionally.

Some of Sasuke's visitors, Sakura thought when she crossed them in the hospital's hallways, were there not so much because they cared about him, but more to confirm that he was indeed back, this mythic runaway, and to see this Uchiha boy with their own eyes. (The Council members, when they came by one afternoon, fell into this category.)

Kimimaro and Sakura continued to adjust to their new forced togetherness that was in some ways welcome and yet remained so very strange. He accompanied her to work and found parts of it interesting (surgeries; the ER) and parts deadly boring (administrative duties that took up too much of her time). But the rules were the rules, and Sakura hadn't had time to put much thought into who she could approach to take on his custodianship on a regular basis.

As the days progressed, Sakura began to realize that Kimimaro really was a bit of a wild child: he'd never done groceries in his life, never gone to a library, never eaten at a restaurant, never had a bank account, never looked both ways before crossing the street. (She corrected all of these lapses and more, and then he'd surprise her afresh with a new one when she wasn't expecting it.)

He was fascinated by the bustle of Konoha and all of the little facets that made up its life. Occasionally, as they traversed the village, Sakura would notice that he was no longer at her side. She'd look back and see that he had stopped and was watching children chasing a cat, or a woman bargaining at the fish stand, or men arguing about who had parked whose ox cart on whose foot. He always seemed a little overwhelmed after these moments; he'd blink at her and look bemused, as though he was still uncertain that this was real.

Of course, the Council's public advisory about the Kaguya-Uchiha deal and the subsequent news coverage made Kimimaro the star of the town's gossip and something of a small celebrity. So he was himself the subject of a great deal of staring when the village folks weren't engrossed in cats or fish or their injured feet. Then _he_ was the one who was watched and studied, sometimes with suspicion, but mostly with plain curiosity. His standoffish manner meant that only the bravest attempted to pull him into conversation. Their efforts were largely futile: Kimimaro was reserved at his best and mute otherwise, which, in the eyes of the populace, further added to his intrigue.

There was one watcher who stood out among the rest. Sakura would catch glimpses of his green jumpsuit, or a flash of his shiny black hair, but then, inevitably, he'd utter some polite words excusing himself and disappear at top speed.

"Oh, Lee," said Sakura as Lee skittered away for the fifth time in as many days. "He's never this bashful, usually…"

She glanced up at Kimimaro – his straight back, his quiet self-confidence, his demeanor so aloof that he seemed unapproachable. "I think you intimidate him."

Kimimaro was watching the green blur that was Lee plunge into the crowd. "I remember that one. He is the one who uses the Drunken Fist."

"Yeah, Rock Lee. Well, he really tries not to use the Drunken Fist because there's always a lot of property damage when he does…"

"We had a good fight," said Kimimaro.

"You should tell him that the next time he shows up. Be friendly…"

Kimimaro twitched an eyebrow at her. (Probably with reason, Sakura realized upon reflection – friendliness would require a modicum of openness and geniality that wasn't in his social repertoire.)

"Well, if not friendly, at least don't unnerve him by staring him down again," said Sakura. "You have a very intense stare, you know, with those eyes of yours…"

"Oh?"

"Yes," said Sakura, and she looked up, and went and got herself caught in those very eyes; that captivating jade with those underpinnings of red that mesmerised her so…

She came back to herself with an effort. " _Anyway…_ Look, the fruit stall just opened, let's stock up…"

The wide-hipped matron who usually manned the stall wasn't there today and was replaced by her two daughters. They were vaguely familiar to Sakura, these young women, though she didn't remember them ever being quite so giggly…?

She also didn't remember them ignoring her existence to the point where she had to weigh her produce herself because they were too busy twirling around Kimimaro, playing with their hair, and asking him what they could do for him.

Sakura watched these proceedings with her mouth slightly open. There were more giggles. One of the girls offered Kimimaro some grapes; the other asked if he would like a slice of this watermelon, ice-cold? (Sakura said she would and was given a piece that was mostly rind.)

Then the other girl told Kimimaro he was _so very brave_ to have come here and left the Sound, and the other sighed and said yes, _so brave_. And the village owed him so much for having brought back the Uchiha boy. Did he want mangoes, they had ever so many? They could give him a good price because he was so very pretty and brave? And did he want clementines, they were ever so sweet? They could peel one for him if he'd like to try?

It wasn't a feeling that Sakura was used to, jealousy, and it was one that took her a moment to place, this hot, tight, angry little thing wrapped around her heart as she watched the girls flutter around Kimimaro.

One was practically climbing him now, and the other was approaching with a large triangle of cantaloupe, apparently with every intention of wedging it into his mouth.

And Kimimaro stood stock-still and wide-eyed and seemed to be pondering whether or not he should flee for his life. At that moment the jealousy lessened because Sakura burst out laughing at the sight.

The two girls looked at her and Sakura smiled kindly at them because they hadn't the slightest idea of the depth of the connection between him and her. They couldn't know how much they were wasting their time.

(And besides, said the jealous, catty thing inside her even as it was fading away, she was far more beautiful, and brilliant to boot, and he loved her, so these girls, they could do whatever they wanted, none of it mattered…)

Sakura paid for her purchases with all of the serenity and grace in the universe. One of the girls managed to zone back into the real world enough to thank her and accept her money. Then Sakura stepped away from the stall and Kimimaro was at her side in an instant, and the girls were left holding up their cantaloupes and grapes to thin air.

Sakura giggled all the way down the block every time she looked up at the disheveled Kimimaro.

"It was not that funny," said Kimimaro with injured dignity.

"It was _hilarious_ ," said Sakura, bursting into a laugh again. Her grip on her bags weakened from her fresh fit of the giggles, and she found herself obliged to collapse onto a nearby bench to recuperate.

Kimimaro sat beside her with his mussed-up hair and his shirt falling off his shoulder. With a surge of fondness, Sakura scooted closer to him and pulled his shirt back up. "I can't believe two girls could fluster you this badly. You're supposed to be a badass. Last of your clan, killer Kaguya, you know…"

Kimimaro did not comment, probably because Sakura was now smoothing down his hair and his mind was on other things: her warm hands, her nearness, her thigh touching his, the shine of laughter in her eyes.

Sakura slid his hair ties back into place and nestled herself against him. (The justifications began their unconscious flow: she wasn't under surveillance anymore, and this side street was dead quiet, and also, she liked his shoulders; when she saw one of them bared just now, she kind of wanted to kiss it, which was why she had hastened to cover it up for him…)

She looked up at him, her eyes still bright. "And, oh my god – and the way you kept looking behind you while we walked away, all distraught, like you were scared they were going to sneak up on you and – and what, put you in a chokehold and force-feed you clementines…?"

"I do not want them to feed me clementines," said Kimimaro.

"I won't let them," said Sakura with mock ferocity. "I'll protect you, you poor darling."

Kimimaro gave her a Look. Then he glanced at the bags gathered by her feet. "However. I would not mind if you did it."

"Did wh–? Oh – I didn't buy clementines."

(Somehow, in this moment it seemed an unutterable tragedy.)

"Oh," said Kimimaro.

"Here. We can share an apricot," said Sakura, digging into one of her bags.

So they shared an apricot between them, and it _was_ ever so sweet, and then, when they had finished that, they shared a kiss, too, because in that moment, it seemed to be the next logical step.

And it was sweeter still, that kiss, because it was apricot _and_ Kimimaro that Sakura tasted on her tongue, lovely things both, and even lovelier the way he hadn't expected it and had gasped into her mouth, he who was always so stoic and unmovable. That made her smile against his lips, which made him smile against hers, which she had to pull back to see. (It was a beautiful thing; he could beam when he wanted to, and she treasured the sight of it and hoped that she'd see many, many more…)

Her fingertips were on his jaw and she drew his face back towards hers and found his apricot-mouth again. Soft lips, timid tongues. The moment lasted an age, an age of sweetness and sighs and springtime sunshine.

She would remember that kiss for a long time, the way it made her heart ache, the way it lit her with gladness.

He pulled away, a little breathless now, and searched her eyes.

Sakura settled against his shoulder with a sigh and eyes full of daydream.

"What's the point of making rules if I can't even keep them?" said Sakura.

"…I do not know," said Kimimaro. "But. I am not complaining."

VVV

(Art by jbadgr @ tumblr!)

VVV

One quiet, unremarkable Sunday afternoon, Sasuke woke up.

Sakura wasn't sure why it surprised her so, the ordinariness of the moment. Somehow she thought there would be more fanfare involved – perhaps a thunderstorm to portend his awakening, or a murder of crows gathered outside his window to caw the news to the world.

But no, no fanfare – just Shizune popping her head into Sakura's office to tell her, by the by, and to let her know she was sending for Naruto and Kakashi.

Sakura and Kimimaro exchanged looks – one anxious, the other impassive – before making their way to Sasuke's room.

"I will stay out here," said Kimimaro when they had reached Sasuke's door with its perennial cluster of Jounin.

"You sure?"

"I am the last person he would want to see."

He was probably right. Sakura nodded. "Okay. I'll see you in a bit…"

She pushed open the door to Sasuke's ward and let her eyes adjust to the dimness within. Again she was struck by the ordinariness of it: this could be any one of her patients, in any one of the hospital's rooms. There was no swell of music, no dramatic sunset to light the scene.

There was just this: this tired, thin man, too weak to sit up, staring at the ceiling with flat, black eyes. He lay withdrawn and still, like no movement was worth the effort. Black hair on a white pillow, white hands on grey blankets. A pale face upturned, as blank as the ceiling above it.

Something about the sight was sad to Sakura. Sasuke, who had burned always with the flames of ambition and revenge and the Sharingan's red fire, had faded into this tired, monochrome man…

He regarded her blankly as she neared, and Kakashi and Naruto just as blankly when they arrived in twin puffs of smoke a few seconds later.

It was a peculiar thing, how Sasuke had been gone for so long, and yet, in those first moments when Team 7 was reunited for the first time in a decade – well, no one had anything to say.

Sakura studied Sasuke's white face. When last they'd been together, she and Sasuke and Naruto, they'd been a spirited bunch of Genin, barely teenagers, with aspirations equal parts grandiose and silly. But never in their wildest dreams would they ever have imagined that one among them would defect from his village, his team, and all that they'd thought he held dear, and not be back for 10 years. Never.

And yet, here they were. Ten years had passed and here they stood, Team 7, mute and unmoving, around the one who had abandoned them all, whose gaze drifted among them like a listless touch.

Sakura wondered if Sasuke, in this state of half-wakefulness, with his mind and will fully his own for the first time since he was 13 years old, even knew who the hell these people staring at him were. Perhaps he still remembered her and Naruto as they had been – gangly, awkward teenagers from those long-ago days. Now, the blond, loudmouthed kid had grown into this tanned, broad-shouldered young man whose every movement exuded self-confidence. Now, the little pink-haired girl stood before him a woman watching him coolly, a lab coat over her arm, a yin seal on her brow.

Sakura realized, in this first moment of reunion, that she wasn't the only one hurting with old wounds. Naruto's face was uncharacteristically grave and Kakashi's shoulders were tense. It had hit them all differently – the friend, the teacher, the lover – but Sasuke's betrayal ran deep, and each of them bore scars from it. Some hid them better than others.

And now – where would they go from here? A few years ago, the answer would've been clear to Sakura, at least: attempt to carry on where she'd left off with him and see where that led – hopefully with them walking into the sunset together.

But things were no longer so simple. They hadn't been for a long time, and they never would be again.

Naruto stepped to Sasuke's side and spoke a few words – welcome back, how are you feeling, you had us worried, you asshole… Sasuke managed very few words back, yes, fine, I'm fine. This broke the ice sufficiently for the intractable Naruto to invite himself to sit on Sasuke's bed and just talk while Kakashi leaned against the wall, and Sakura pretended to read his charts.

Sakura listened to Naruto chatter on about the seal extraction, the fight with Orochimaru, the fight with Itachi – events which, as it transpired, Sasuke had little to no recollection of. She watched Sasuke absorb the information indifferently; he seemed too drained, or too shell-shocked, to even begin to react or care. It was only when Ino's discovery of the Uchiha plot was raised that Sasuke evinced a sign of life: "What?"

Kakashi spoke up. Yes, two weeks ago an investigation had been launched, and sufficient evidence had been found to corroborate Ino's findings. The story was highly likely to be true.

A clan had been wiped out and a brother had exiled himself for the sake of keeping Sasuke safe.

Weak fingers clutched at white sheets.


	28. Chapter 28

"You are quiet," said Kimimaro as he and Sakura made their way back to her office some time later.

Sakura lifted a shoulder into a shrug. "Just thinking."

"How is he?"

"He's…not quite here yet," said Sakura. "In the real world, I mean."

"Oh."

She gave Kimimaro a questioning look. "Nice of you to ask about him… I thought you hated him."

"I do not like him," said Kimimaro. "However…"

"However…?"

"I understand him. More now than before. How much Orochimaru's will had taken over. How there were things beyond his control."

His fingers drifted towards his collarbone, but he caught himself in the middle of the unconscious gesture and let his hand fall to his side. "He will feel the loss of the seal. These will not be good days for the Uchiha."

Sakura regarded Kimimaro with curiosity. He rarely spoke of the seals, nor of his experience with them, but something about seeing Sasuke suffer through the removal and its aftermath seemed to have affected him.

Kimimaro stopped to look behind them at Sasuke's door and its four bored Jounin guards. "It will be difficult. It leaves a void behind. It will take him time to find his own direction again."

"I take it you're speaking from experience."

"Yes," said Kimimaro, falling back into step beside her. "But. For him, it will be worse."

"Because he let the seal get to him so much more?"

"In a way," said Kimimaro. His eyebrows were drawn together in the slightest frown. "But. More than that. The Uchiha… he was driven by two things. The first, revenge upon his brother. The second, Orochimaru's will through the seal."

"And now…"

"Both are gone. He has learned that his brother was protecting him. So. Where is his revenge? Orochimaru no longer controls him. So. What drives him now?"

"Oh…"

"It will be heavy to endure," said Kimimaro. Again his fingers drifted to his collarbone. "One or the other would have been enough. But both…"

Sakura was surprised to find something like pity in Kimimaro's eyes. He shook his head. "What purpose will he have left?"

These observations were as perceptive as they were sombre. Kimimaro and Sakura walked on in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When they reached Sakura's office, she was surprised to find that it was past six.

"Let's get out of here," she said, packing her things. "I didn't realize it was so late. Let's grab something to eat and go home…"

Kimimaro nodded, brightening up at the prospect of not spending another slow hour or two in Sakura's office.

As they left the hospital grounds, the sound of running footsteps behind them made both ninja pivot: Lee was coming up fast.

"Hello! Pardon me! Coming through!"

"Lee, hi," said Sakura.

"Can't talk, training!" said Lee, waving at them as he passed and speeding up further. "It is going to rain tonight! No time to lose!"

"Lee – wait!"

"Perhaps next time. Goodbye!"

" _Lee!_ " said Sakura with enough exasperation to threaten a temperamental explosion if he didn't stop.

Lee wisely decided to halt his progress at that point, though he jogged on the spot while eyeing possible escape routes.

"Yes?" he said, looking sheepishly at Sakura and bashfully towards Kimimaro.

"We keep seeing you around, but you're always too busy to talk," said Sakura. "What's going on?"

"Training," said Lee. "It is _so_ important. I should continue!"

He looked like he was thinking of making a break for it. Sakura put a friendly hand on his arm so that she could snatch him up by his jumpsuit if required. "Kimimaro was just talking to me about you the other day. He was saying how he remembered you, and—"

"He remembers me…?" said Lee, and the honour of it filled his eyes with quivery tears as he turned to Kimimaro.

"Yes – of course he does, and – what else was it you were saying, Kimimaro?"

Kimimaro, who had been pinning Lee with his usual expressionless stare, was elbowed sharply in the ribs.

He blinked and said, dutifully, "It was a good fight. I remember it well."

Lee's face glowed a radiant shade of red and he stepped forward to shake Kimimaro's hand. "I am honored. Do you really think so? Wow! No hard feelings? Friends?"

Again Sakura's elbow found Kimimaro's side, and he looked askance at her, but nevertheless nodded.

"Yes!" said Lee, pumping Kimimaro's hand up and down. "I thought you might not like me because we were not on the same side before. _But!_ Now we are! I also remember our fight well! I also think that it was an _outstanding_ fight!"

Lee's bashfulness disappeared completely as he began to relive some apparently glorious memories. He darted towards Kimimaro, his bandaged fists a blur as he weaved and shadowboxed around him. "I remember when you did that thing, like this, and this one, and then I did this, and you did that, and I got you, and you got me, smack, and I had sake (terrible), and I got you, pow, like that, do you remember? What a match! Such taijutsu I haven't seen since!"

"Yes," said Kimimaro, his hair blowing slightly in the breeze created by Lee's quick fists.

He caught one that came too close to his face for his liking, a crisp block right at the wrist. And Lee, bent at an awkward angle, flew into ecstasies of the precision of it, and what a glorious block it was.

"I have a Question for you, Kimimaro," said Lee when Kimimaro let go and permitted him to disentangle himself. "I have wanted to ask it since you came back, but I have been too shy…"

Two pink spots blossomed on Lee's cheeks and he took a deep breath. "I would like to know if you would be interested in joining Gai-sensei and me for training. I think that it could be a mutually beneficial endeavor. I would be honored to have a chance to train with someone of your calibre! I will not be offended if you say no; however, it would make me sad. I pledge to work hard always and be the best training partner for you! What do you think? Please say yes!"

Kimimaro studied the odd, overeager shinobi before him with his odd, equally overeager sensei waiting in the wings. Sakura watched Kimimaro, wondering how the prospect of Lee and Gai and their loud eccentricities would fare against the lethal monotony of her office…

After a moment, Kimimaro came to a decision.

"Yes," he said, "I would like that."

"Yes? _Yes!_ " said Lee, with many victorious fist-pumps. "I will go and tell Gai-sensei immediately! He will also be thrilled! He has only the best things to say about you, Kimimaro!"

With that, Lee gave Kimimaro another handshake and Sakura a brisk salute, and disappeared at top speed with farewell cries about renewed vigour.

Sakura grinned at the adorableness of it all.

"I am not sure what I just agreed to," said Kimimaro, blinking at the retreating figure.

"A lot of hard work," said Sakura. "You're braver than I am. Gai does _not_ go easy on his crew… but this might just work out really well for all of us. We can have Gai set up as a secondary custodian. I'll do the paperwork… then you'll be able to train, rather than die of boredom in my office."

Kimimaro still looked slightly bemused but nevertheless pleased with this development.

They wandered into the twilit village to get something to eat, chitchatting about the piece of extraordinariness that was Rock Lee.

It was a gorgeous evening, one of those soft, green-smelling evenings that portend the shift from late spring to early summer. Clouds were piling up in soft heaps to the east, tinged by the sunset's glow to peaches and pinks and creamy oranges. With those clouds came a breeze and the scent of ozone, faint and low – a sweet sharpness that promised the coming of rain.

The lampposts around them lit up with the fall of dusk, charting a romantic path for Kimimaro and Sakura through Konoha's quaint streets. As they made their slow way to Tabemono Avenue with its food stalls and little restaurants, Sakura began to notice that other people were walking in the same direction – couples, mostly, hand in hand or with their arms wrapped around each other's waists.

Of course, it was Friday night – a night when normal people go out on dates and maybe fall a little bit in love with each other and don't panic at the very thought. It elicited a surge of envy in Sakura to see these people around her enjoying these nascent relationships, so innocent and carefree, while she struggled with fear and indecision and confusion.

As the couples giggled and tripped their way by them, Sakura also envied them their anonymity: they didn't care who saw them together because they were random village boys out with village girls and no one gave a damn. That was something that she'd never have because she wasn't a nameless village girl, she was Sakura Haruno, and with her wasn't a random village boy, it was Kimimaro Kaguya. And together they would cause a little more reaction than a passing glance and a benign smile. Hell, when that stupid engagement misunderstanding had happened, it had made the front page of the newspapers…

Still. Watching the twitterpated couples meander by was enough to make Sakura want to take Kimimaro's hand and hold it in hers as they walked to see what it would be like, to do this innocent dating thing with someone she actually cared about, and all those sweet things that came with it…

But, on glancing up at him, she found that Kimimaro was steadfastly keeping an arm's length away from her (because she had asked him to, because she was stupid). In any case, he seemed lost in thought; his unfocused gaze drifted from the golden-pink sky to the street ahead without taking any of it in. So Sakura wrapped her fingers around the strap of her purse instead of his hand and kept walking, and she ignored all the lovey-dovey people around them and wished they'd get a room already.

They made it to Tabemono, where the vendors and restaurants had lit their lanterns-of-many-colours and their fairy lights, and so made the place look utterly magical. Sakura saw Kimimaro watch the goings-on at a yakiniku BBQ place with curiosity and got them an outside table there.

She showed him how to work the little coal grill that squatted in the centre of their table, and soon the air sizzled with the sound and fragrance of beef and pork and peppers cooking. Then she introduced him to the dipping sauces and their worlds of flavours – garlic and sesame and shallot and miso, so far from the Sound's bland fare – and even dared to feed him a piece from her own chopsticks, and hoped no one had seen that. Then he fed her a piece from his chopsticks (which tasted the better for it), and she _really_ hoped no one had seen that.

All around them were other couples, talking or holding hands or playing footsie or other more risqué touching games. And she and Kimimaro were a part of it, except they weren't. It filled Sakura with a longing to be that comfortable, that familiar, that content.

It surprised her, how hard the longing hit her – how much she wanted it, too. And it was close to her – literally within reach, Kimimaro's hand was right there, an inch from hers, but she didn't dare, someone might recognize them, someone might see…

Sometime later, their cheerful waiter noticed that they were slowing down and bobbed over, asked if they were enjoying their date night (response: stuttered non-answer from Sakura and blank look from Kimimaro) and whether they'd like any dessert, they had homemade amanatto tonight?

"Oh," said Sakura, instantaneously flustered, "this isn't a – we aren't – um, yes, dessert sounds good, thank you…"

This spectacular display of articulateness complete, Sakura stared at the table. For his part, Kimimaro was polishing off the last of the chicken and appeared unperturbed by the exchange.

The waiter came back a moment later, and, since Sakura was still staring at the table, he adroitly slid a plate of peanut amanatto under her nose.

"For the lovely couple," he said. "On the house."

Kimimaro nodded his thanks; Sakura choked on her saliva ( _lovely_ _couple?!_ ) and muttered some inarticulate words of appreciation.

It occurred to her that she ought to run away from this complicated life and begin a new, less complicated one as a vagrant.

The waiter cleared the table and replaced their grill with a single candle, and Kimimaro and Sakura ate their desserts by the light of its glow – a glow that was, in Sakura's opinion, being extra romantic on purpose.

"You are quiet again," said Kimimaro after studying her for a while.

Sakura toyed with a piece of amanatto. "Yeah. Sorry."

"The Uchiha?"

"No, actually. If you _must_ know… I'm thinking about ditching everything and becoming a vagabond."

A quiet huff of amusement greeted this declaration. "Why?"

"Because. My life is too complicated."

"Oh," said Kimimaro. There was a pause. Then: "Can I come with you?"

Sakura looked up at him and a smile made its way unbidden across her face. "Of course."

He was very pretty, Kimimaro, by candlelight. It flickered in warm touches along his jawline, his cheekbones, across his pale lips – all places that Sakura would like to be touching, too, which was unfair. It gave his eyes a new and enthralling green-gold richness.

Of course, the candlelight also gave her eyes a new richness – and made the hair that fell over her shoulder glow an opulent rose-gold, and her lips glossy and kissable. These things she knew from the way he was looking at her, this soft fascination verging on enchantment.

The waiter was right: they _did_ make a lovely couple.

"Where will we go?" asked Kimimaro.

"I don't know," said Sakura. "Far away. Where no one knows us."

"What will we do?"

"Whatever we want. Anything we want."

Their eyes met and there was warmth in his and she knew that they shared an understanding of the various wants that she'd thrown into that general category. (And she wished, and she wished, that they could be like the couples around them finishing up their dinners, who would in a while be off to share goodnight kisses in doorways and other things in beds…)

"I like this idea," said Kimimaro.

"If only I'd have the guts to do it," said Sakura.

Kimimaro studied her hand on the table next to his and looked like he was going to take it, and she hoped he would. But he didn't – he just put his next to it, close enough that she thought she could feel its warmth. "It would not be a life for you."

"Wouldn't it?"

"No. You are needed here."

"No one's irreplaceable," said Sakura.

"Some people are," said Kimimaro with a very pointed look.

"No," said Sakura, though the pointed look made her happy.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Sakura regarded him with mingled playfulness and warning. "I don't take kindly to being disagreed with, Kaguya."

And he looked at her and blinked and understood her dumb flirting. The slightest hint of a smile ghosted across his lips. "So what will you do about it?"

What would she do about it? She didn't know; she hadn't quite planned out her next steps here. But, when in doubt, she did have an old standby…

"Arm-wrestle you into the ground," said Sakura. "The winner is right. And – just so we're clear – it'll be me."

Fine white eyebrows rose; whatever he'd expected, it hadn't been this.

"…Arm-wrestle?" repeated Kimimaro. He looked at her, then at her small hand beside his (deceptively small, of course, he'd seen it bend steel and casually crack a wall).

"…I believe I may be making a mistake," said Kimimaro. He anchored his elbow into the table and raised his hand. "However."

Sakura pulled her chair up closer, held up her hand, and grinned a delighted grin. "Oh, yes. You are most _definitely_ making a mistake."

Their palms met, and immediately Sakura was adrift on happy, stupid hormones and the rising beats of her pulse. And they didn't start to push hard right away, obviously – both of them knew that that wasn't the point of this exercise. They slid their hands against each other's under the pretext of getting a good grip or whatever, and they interlocked their fingers to see if that was better, and then Sakura thought it was actually her left arm that was stronger for this so they switched, and then she said no that didn't feel right, so they switched back again, both of them biting back idiot smiles.

Then they ran out of excuses to just touch each other, so they set their shoulders and Kimimaro nudged at her palm with his, and Sakura nudged back, and then she pressed a bit harder, and he pressed back as well, and she put more shoulder into it, and he resisted easily. Then, out of scientific curiosity, Sakura put in all her strength, her human strength, without the push of her chakra, to see how she'd measure up to him without it, and his grip tightened and he pushed back and she found that the back of her hand hovered an inch above the table. (He didn't make her lose yet, that would've defeated the purpose of the game.)

Then Sakura's eyes flashed and she decided to show Kimimaro who was actually the boss around here, and she surged her chakra to her arm, and his eyes widened as he found the back of _his_ hand hovering an inch above the table.

Sakura looked up at Kimimaro in satisfaction because she had just totally proven her point – except that now, impossibly, he was pushing back at her in spite of the brunt of her chakra-enhanced strength against him, and now their hands were back up where they'd started – how?

"You…!" gasped Sakura when she looked down and saw that he had his forearm braced against the table by two bones emerging from his wrist.

And now he was most _definitely_ smirking. Which made him veer beyond handsome and into sexy territory, which was unjust because it was so distracting.

Sakura narrowed her eyes and put more power into her push and she was surprised, very surprised, at how strongly he resisted.

Then she remembered that those bones had survived the ten thousand tons of pressure of Gaara's Great Sand Burial back in the day, and they'd been the bones of a sick Kaguya back then, not one in his prime…

She wasn't the only one surprised, though – Kimimaro, too, was looking at her with a new kind of admiration because he knew the strength of his bones, and now they were being put to the test by this girl with eyes bright and defiant and a slender arm flexed stubbornly before him and a hand in his squeezing just hard enough to suggest that she could crush it if she wanted to…

Soft clicks, a shiver against her palm: he'd just put up his layer of armour. Sakura squeezed harder and Kimimaro's smirk widened.

There was an ominous squeak.

"We are going to break this table," said Kimimaro.

"Are you saying you're quitting?" said Sakura, finding herself feeling more competitive than she might've imagined.

"No," said Kimimaro.

"Are you _sure?_ " said Sakura with another surge of force. She pushed his hand down an inch.

She saw his eyes flick to her forehead; the little rhombus that was her yin seal must've glowed with that push of chakra.

"Very sure," said Kimimaro, and the protruding bones were pushed out further, and now Sakura's hand was on the wrong side of things.

The table was a sturdy old thing, but this fresh pressure made it creak in a loud complaint about the injustice of it all.

"Okay, okay," said Sakura, relenting on the pushing and glancing around for their watchful waiter. "Let's not get kicked out."

"Are you saying you are quitting?"

" _No_ ," said Sakura emphatically.

"Then?"

"Let's call it a stalemate."

Kimimaro inclined his head. "Very well."

"You don't look satisfied."

"I will want a rematch."

"Brave. You should quit while you're ahead, though – I'll win, you know," said Sakura, because she knew that she was strong.

"I do not think so," said Kimimaro, because he also knew that he was strong. "However. You are very confident."

"I have reason to be," said Sakura with a little smirk of her own.

"I am curious now," said Kimimaro, studying her in a new way – a different way, not how a love-struck boy gazes at his girl, but the way a shinobi appraises a challenger.

"About?"

"I do not want to arm-wrestle you."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Then…?"

"I want to fight you."

…And Sakura found herself really liking this idea.

"Let's do it," she said with a grin. "We'll find some time at the training grounds. And I'll teach you a thing or two."

Again Kimimaro gave her that look of evaluation, so different from his usual dreamy stare. It made her blood rise in excitement and anticipation – it made her want to start something right now. She wouldn't, but – the desire was there.

"So are you letting go, or…?" said Sakura after a beat, because they were both still clasping hard at each other's hands.

"No," said Kimimaro. "You first."

"Um, no. _You_ first."

"No."

"Well then, I guess we're here forever."

"That is fine."

"Great."

"Good."

A cough made them both look up: the waiter was dropping off the bill.

And then he caught sight of Kimimaro's arm with its bone protrusions and stared at it with wide, horrified eyes, and went quite white.

"Oh, the bill, thank you," said Sakura, disengaging her hand from Kimimaro's. "Sorry – we were just, um, settling an argument…"

Kimimaro, probably in what he hoped was an inconspicuous fashion, reabsorbed the bones. And at _that_ sight, the waiter slumped into a faint so sudden and quiet that no one around them noticed. Kimimaro caught him and set him into a chair as Sakura pressed healing fingertips to his temples and said, "Oopsie."

They departed just as the waiter was coming to and left a large tip behind to make up for the trauma.

Sakura was able to hold in her laughter until they'd crossed the street. Then she held herself against a wall under multi-coloured lights and tried to breathe between giggles. "Did you see his face? I thought he was going to barf on your lap, oh my god, but really, though, I've never seen anyone pass out so _gracefully_ before. Did anyone even realize…?"

Kimimaro looked back to the patio where the waiter was blinking and looking at the pile of cash in front of him in confusion, and all of the other patrons were carrying on as usual. "They have no idea…"

"Good," said Sakura. "Let's get out of here."

As they trotted along the darkening streets towards Sakura's apartment, thunder rumbled and the air grew heavy with the sharp scent of rain just before it hits.

And then it came, a heavy curtain sweeping in from the east. Sakura could hear it coming like a distant wave. She grabbed Kimimaro's hand and pulled him into a nearby pergola overgrown with camellias to wait out the worst of the downpour.

It was a beautiful pergola laden with lanterns glowing softly into the night and fragrant with hundreds of blossoms – but it was a bit leaky, as latticework tends to be. This gave Kimimaro and Sakura an excuse to move to a corner where the camellias grew thickest above and nestle together in the darkness there.

They watched the rain come down. The air grew rich with the smell of wet petals – and also Kimimaro because Sakura was so close to him. Or maybe he was close to her, had he gotten closer? He'd gotten closer, Sakura was sure of it because his shoulder was now right in front of her; she watched droplets fall onto it and leave little marks like kisses on his shirt.

Which she also wanted to do, only on his skin.

She looked up at him. The golden glow from the lanterns around them danced in the rain and caught in her wet lashes like tiny fairy lights.

And he was enchanted, enchanted…

She felt a raindrop hit her bottom lip. His eyes flicked down, then back up. Then he looked away from her, almost pained.

"What is it?"

"I cannot look at you," said Kimimaro. "It is – too much…"

They were still holding hands, which she remembered because his grip on hers tightened.

"No," said Sakura, "it's not enough."

He turned to her, brought her hand up to his face, and pressed his mouth to it, first the back, then the middle of her palm, then the thin skin of her inner wrist, which made her knees threaten to give; her knees were weak, and she was weak, and she wished that she could just close her eyes and hold this moment forever.

He held her hand against his cheek and closed his eyes, and perhaps he was making the same wish. She reached up with her other hand and pulled his face down to hers. It was dark, it was raining, no one was around – and as far as she was concerned, no one else existed right now other than this man whose hair she was now twining her fingers into, and whose hands were on her waist, and whose breaths she was breathing.

She pushed herself to her tiptoes and their mouths met – a lovely, contradictory combination of hesitant and eager because they oughtn't, but they wanted to, but they shouldn't, but they wanted to. So she kissed him, once, twice, and retreated, and he pulled her back in and caught her lips and whispered some words against them. And she wanted to fall right here in the petal-strewn puddles at their feet because there was no strength left in her, only a delicious euphoria of mouth against mouth and her hands in his hair and his grip pulling her against him so tightly…

She was dizzy; she needed air. She clutched at his shirt and breathed and felt his heartbeat flying under her fingertips.

"I need you to stop doing…whatever you are doing to me," said Kimimaro into her hair.

"What am I doing to you…?"

He was in a daze, unfocused, breathless. "This. Making me – like this…"

Again she reached for his face and brought it down to hers, close enough that their lips brushed when she spoke. "Serves you right, because – because it's what you do to me.

"And I won't stop," whispered Sakura, her mouth soft against his, "because I like it. I really, really like it."

She felt him smile into her kisses. "So do I."

The rain came in harder and dappled Kimimaro's shoulders further, leaving gleaming trails where drops dripped from his wet hair down to his neck. And Sakura looked up at him and said, it was so stupid, but she was jealous of raindrops. Which he didn't understand until she reached up and said against his neck: these raindrops, specifically. And she kissed them away, and his pulse beat under her lips, matching the beat of the rain, of droplets leaping from leaf to leaf.

Then his fingers were on her jaw and tilting her head up to him, and he was kissing her again. She leaned back against the living wall behind her, green tendrils and sodden flowers, and pulled him against her, one hand in the dripping white camellias and one hand in his dripping white hair.

And it was beautiful, this height of happiness, where the air was rarefied and made it hard to breathe.

VVV

**To be continued…**

   
  
   
   
   


 ([aesthetics board](http://actuallydeglace.tumblr.com/post/156148775291/actuallydeglace-kimimaro-x-sakura-aesthetics-for) by me; see my tumblr for more kimisaku stuff!)


	29. Chapter 29

AN: heres the update hope u like it plz r&r

0o

one day ino and sakura went to school. they were in ballgowns because it was prom. inos ballgown was light blue like the sky which trailed on the grownd. sakuras was pink like cherry blossomes because she was the cheerry blossom girl.

"are you ready for prom" said ino fascinatingly.

"yea what about u" said sakura wonderingly.

"i cant wait!" said ino impatiently.

the pinkette cherry-blossom girl fluttered her eyebrows. "who are you going with"

"its a secret" said ino secretly.

sakuras eyes changed from emeraldine orbs to jaden-green-dark-forest-moss-ebony-shadows because her mood changed. "you have to tell me i'm your best friend."

"well..." said ino.

o0o.0o0o FLASHBACK 0o.o0o0..

"hey u wanna go to prom w/ me" said itachi (he wascool and older than her)

ino was shy because he was cool. "no" said ino "you suck"

"i'll pay you $100000"

"yea ok "

0o0o0. 00o0o END FLASHBACK 0p0p0/p0p0o0

"its going to be a surprise" said ino.

anyway they walked to the school and kakashi was there.

"you're both late" said kakashi. "ur gonna get detention"

"he's so hott" whispered ino to sakura. (A/N: they are both 18 in this story NO FLAMES) "i wish he had asked me to prom."

they went to detention . naruto was there because he was always a troublemaker sometimes he did pranks. He was a punk

"hello" said naruto cheerfully "i did a prank so thats why i'm here."

"cool" said the blondette and the pinkette

0o.o0o0o0o0.o0o0o

anyways it was prom night. sakuras date was gaara who was a hot emo boy from the dessert who wore eyeliner and sakura saved his brothers life and she was beautiful so he feel in love with her. anyway ino was also beautiful so he fell in love with her too

"threesome?" asked gara

"ok"

"can i watch" asked itachi

"yea"

they had sex

o0o0o the end o0o0o0o

VVV

**Author's note:** MOOR IS TO BLAME FOR APRIL FOOL'S BADFIC AHH

Okay so the real update is below. All of my gratitude to Renaerys for the beta – any remaining errors are mine.

**Chapter 29 (for realsies)**

So Sasuke got better, slowly. Some days it was like old times again when he lay in his hospital bed in grouchy silence and Sakura sat nearby and peeled an apple, and Naruto kept them entertained with inexhaustible chatter, and Kakashi read his Icha Icha and pretended not to listen.

Like old times, except it wasn't, because Sasuke was a damaged shell and Sakura was scarred up and Naruto nursed a betrayal and Kakashi already had a host of trust issues and loss issues, and all his old Genin team did was aggravate them.

Naruto and Kakashi came to understand, after a while, that things weren't how they were before for Sakura and her matters of the heart. Their suspicion of it began when she hadn't immediately leapt at the chance to nurse Sasuke and instead allowed Shizune to do it. Then those suspicions firmed up into certainties because she didn't gush or fret or worry over Sasuke as she used to. Their exchanges were stilted and superficial at best – he'd tried to kill her, after all, though he didn't really remember it, and casual chitchat with your attempted-murderer is never an easy thing…

She didn't look at him with eyes aglow with girlish adoration as she used to. Because now, as Sakura looked upon that face that had filled so many of her childhood dreams, she realized that it had never, in thirteen years, brightened at the sight of her. She looked at a mouth that had so rarely had a kind thing to say to her. She looked at hands that had, here in the waking world, tried to kill her on at least two occasions and thus, finally, laid those childhood dreams to rest.

In the face of this awkwardness between them, Sakura tried to line up her visits with Sasuke with those of Naruto and Kakashi so that she wouldn't be alone with him. However, one day, through a combination of an unfortunately timed mission on Kakashi's part and Naruto being his flaky self and not showing up, Sakura was forced into an accidental tête-à-tête with Sasuke.

She peeked into Sasuke's room that afternoon and found it empty, save for Sasuke sitting up in his bed and picking at an afternoon snack.

"Hey," said Sakura.

Sasuke made a sound that might have been a greeting as he peeled open a Jell-O cup.

"Naruto isn't here yet…?"

"No."

"Oh. I'll just come back later, then."

Sasuke didn't look up at her as he ate. "Can't you be here by yourself?"

"Of course I can," said Sakura with a fake little smile. "It's just, you know Naruto. He likes to be a part of everything…"

This was a weak excuse; Sasuke knew it as well as she did. It embarrassed her, how weak it was, and so she relented and shrugged off her lab coat. "I'll stay for a bit."

"You're not going to sit?" said Sasuke when Sakura approached the foot of the bed and stood there stiffly with her arms wrapped around her balled-up lab coat.

"No, I'm good. I don't have much time to spare today, so…"

Her words trailed off and silence fell. Sasuke's black eyes observed her where she stood. Once it would have filled her with butterflies and glee to be the subject of his study like this while he licked at his spoon; once she would have blushed and wanted to swoon at this gaze flitting to her face, her hair, her legs. But not anymore. Now she stared back, unblushing, with an indifferent heart.

Sasuke perceived some of these things, no doubt – he did have the best eyes in the business.

"You've changed a lot," he said at length.

Sakura wasn't sure what he meant by the comment – whether he meant physically or emotionally or otherwise – but she didn't care to delve into that at the moment, so her answer was noncommittal and guarded. "Yeah. It's been a while."

"I guess," said Sasuke, equally guarded. "I barely recognize you. All…grown up."

Sakura looked down at herself and nodded in that awkward way you nod when someone makes a self-evident statement and there isn't much else to say about it. "Yep…ten years will do that."

"I still remember you as a kid," said Sasuke. He paused then, and again she was the object of his study. "Although, I'm told we've met more recently than that."

"Yeah," said Sakura. Her arms tightened around her coat; the memory of that meeting was still vivid and painful. "We did."

"I don't really remember," said Sasuke.

"That's probably for the best."

Again, an uncomfortable silence fell between them. Sasuke turned his attention to rearranging the items on his food tray so that they lined up just so.

"They say I tried to kill you," said Sasuke, when everything on his tray was perfectly parallel and could offer no further hope of distraction.

He looked up at her then, searching her eyes, maybe hoping that she'd tell him no, they were exaggerating, it wasn't that bad…

"You did," said Sakura.

The look of contrition that flashed across Sasuke's face surprised her. He looked at his hands.

"I wouldn't do that. You know that."

"You were under some...strong influences at the time," said Sakura. "Influences that were pushing you well beyond anything you'd normally do…"

"I wasn't me."

"I know," said Sakura. "No hard feelings. Honestly."

(No feelings at all, really.)

Sasuke nodded. Then he cast about the room as though looking for something else to talk about after this exchange – this acknowledgement and this pseudo-apology of his and this kind-of-forgiveness of hers. (The latter part seemed to have relieved him of some worry or other; a tightness left his shoulders.)

Sasuke cleared his throat. Sakura looked at her shoes.

"So, Naruto says you're running this place now," said Sasuke.

"I mostly run it, yeah. I got promoted to Chief of Patient Care last year," said Sakura.

"Ah."

He was terrible at small talk, terrible, and this conversation was so awkward, couldn't it be over already?

"Yep," said Sakura. "Lots of admin stuff at this level, and training up the next generation of medics, but I do like to keep some clinical duties too… Keeps my skills sharp."

"I see," said Sasuke. "You must be busy."

"Yes. Quite busy."

"I guess I didn't…fit into your schedule."

Sakura blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you'd be," began Sasuke, and then he stopped. "I thought you were the team medic."

It took Sakura a moment to understand that he was referring to being placed in Shizune's care, rather than hers – and that it bothered him.

"I'm, um, much more than just a team medic now," said Sakura with a shake of her head. "I manage this place, and part of managing is knowing when to delegate. Shizune knows her cursed seals, so we asked her to take care of you."

"Ah."

That awkward silence fell again. Sasuke looked away and seemed to regret having posed any question at all on the matter. Sakura made a show of folding her coat back over her arm and glanced at the door.

He caught the look and made another attempt at conversation, as though to stave off her departure.

"Naruto said it's thanks to you that they found me. Your idea."

"Yeah, it was," said Sakura with a nod. "Well, my idea, but definitely not my execution…"

"…You mean the Kaguya."

"Yeah. We couldn't have done it without him."

"So I heard," said Sasuke, and it seemed to Sakura that he was being even more guarded than before. "It's pretty...pretty _weird_ that he's here."

Sakura gave him a shrug. "You aren't the only one who decided to ditch Orochimaru."

Again, Sasuke was being cautious and treading carefully. "Yeah. But _Kimimaro_. That just doesn't sound like him."

Sakura was caught off-guard by the surge of defensiveness that swelled in her chest. "He's changed a lot since you first met him."

"Apparently," said Sasuke, infusing just enough aspersion in the word to provoke her.

"Not apparently," said Sakura. " _Evidently_. Orochimaru pulled Kimimaro's seal. His obsession – worship, whatever you want to call it – faded after that. He's no longer a conduit for Orochimaru's moods and desires and whatever else. His will is his own, his mind is his own, his…"

_His heart is his own_ , was what Sakura had been about to say. She let the sentence trail off and shrugged. "Anyway, he's changed."

"So how'd he end up in Konoha, helping the Leaf?"

"That's a long story," said Sakura, with the accompanying, though unspoken, implication that she did not wish to speak of it further just now.

"In a nutshell," prompted Sasuke.

A nutshell? Sakura bit back a rueful smile. There was no fitting into a nutshell that half-year of slow-blooming companionship that grew into so much more and compelled the Sound's best and most loyal shinobi to leave everything he knew behind…

So Sakura gave Sasuke the clean version, the one minus the complications. "He tracked me here, using one of the bones that he'd given me. That gave me the idea that he might be able to do the same with you because you guys had fought so much that there was bound to be a shard of some kind still in you."

"But _why_ did Kimimaro come to you?"asked Sasuke. His previous guardedness gave way to impatience. This was the crux, the question that was driving his curiosity…

"I guess he didn't really have anyone else," said Sakura.

"Why would he even need anyone else? The guy's more than capable of taking care of himself. I don't remember much, but I remember _that_. Those damn sword dances…"

"Not everyone wants to be alone," said Sakura.

Sasuke looked at her askance. "So he wants to be with…you?"

Sakura shrugged. "I guess so."

"But _why?_ " pressed Sasuke. His eyes hardened into obsidian, sharp and black.

"Like I said, who else did he have?" said Sakura. "I'm the one who healed him…and probably the closest thing he has to a friend in the whole world."

Sasuke did not appear satisfied with this answer. He mulled things over for a moment, his fingers interlocked and tucked under his chin. Again Sakura glanced at the door, wondering if she'd stayed long enough that it would be polite to leave now.

"So what's he still doing in Konoha?" asked Sasuke. "When do we kick him out?"

"Um, there will be no kicking him out. He's officially defected from the Sound."

"So the Hidden Leaf is harbouring a missing-nin?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, we are," said Sakura. "I made a deal with the Council to put Kimimaro in my custody if he managed to find you, so he wouldn't be imprisoned indefinitely."

Sasuke shook his head and radiated disapproval verging on scorn. "Another deal. You sure cut a lot of them."

Again, Sakura found herself quelling a defensive surge. "I cut deals to save people I – people I care about. What's your point?"

The revelation was probably unwise; Sakura realized it as soon as it left her lips.

This was confirmed when Sasuke regarded her with disbelief. "You _care_ about him?"

"…Yes," said Sakura.

"Why?"

"What does it matter?"

"He's—" Sasuke gestured widely, as though the enormity of why it mattered was too obvious and vast for words. "He's from an enemy village."

"Not anymore," said Sakura.

"He _was_ from an enemy village, whatever…"

"So were you, until a few weeks ago," said Sakura.

"Yeah, but... He was Orochimaru's next body. _Willingly_."

"So were you."

"But – but he's done all kinds of shit. He's killed all kinds of people…"

"So have you."

Sasuke stared at Sakura with an open mouth, apparently computing his remaining objections and realizing that he was equally guilty of each.

He pressed his lips into an unhappy line, stared out the window, and stewed.

"I should go," said Sakura.

"…What the hell did he do to make you care about him?" asked Sasuke.

Sakura was saved from formulating a response by a crackle on the PA announcing a code thirty-three in Obstetrics. The interruption was received with gratitude on her part, and annoyance on his.

"That's for me," said Sakura, pulling her lab coat back on. "See you."

"Wait. This isn't what I…"

"What you…?" asked Sakura with a quizzical look.

"Nothing," said Sasuke, turning away. "Forget it."

Sakura left with a backwards glance and remained confused and uncertain as to the import of the conversation for a long while afterwards.

 


	30. Chapter 30

The last day of March dawned warm and misty. Just as she was getting ready to leave for work, Sakura's intercom chimed.

"That'll be Gai," she said to Kimimaro as she hit the buzzer. "He's early today…"

Kimimaro's leisurely breakfast-eating grew more hurried; Gai's patience with such silliness as eating, when there were a thousand push-ups waiting to be pushed, was nonexistent.

There was something endearing in seeing the measured Kimimaro hurriedly stuff toast into his mouth. A surge of affection for him made Sakura lean in and plant a swift kiss in between of the two circles on his forehead. Then, just as he realized what had happened and turned a surprised look towards her, she ran for the door, which was now being knocked on with obnoxious enthusiasm.

"Hi Gai, Lee. I'm late, excuse me. Have fun today!" said Sakura, bustling out past the two of them.

They yelled encouragement at her to run faster, enjoy her youth, et cetera, all the way down the hall. Then she heard Gai's booming greeting to Kimimaro and an equally loud enquiry asking if everything was alright, because he looked so shocked?

And Sakura ran down the stairs with a wide smile.

They were a good fit for Kimimaro, Team Gai, what with their general inclination towards taijutsu, and Lee with his self-improvement obsession, and the stoic Neji who mirrored Kimimaro's temperament so well, and of course Tenten, who was starry-eyed at the thought of a shinobi who could produce weapons on a whim…

And for all of his idiosyncrasies, Gai was a gruelling trainer. Kimimaro came home late and quite literally bone-tired every night from a combination of training and whatever peace-time missions were assigned to Team Gai that day. It was a useful arrangement and one that took Kimimaro off Sakura's hands and let her focus on her own job, which was even busier than usual as of late.

That morning, the moment Sakura set foot in the hospital, the whirlwind that was her day commenced: she had a medic-nin delegation from Stone to keep entertained in the morning (hands-on training on poison extraction and antidote manufacturing techniques); she'd somehow been double-booked for two surgeries at the exact same time (someone would be getting a lecture for this); and today was her deadline for submitting her finalized pediatric wing proposal to the Fifth, who did not like to be kept waiting.

Before Sakura knew it, it was seven o'clock, way past home time. She left the hospital at a trot, intending on stopping by Tsunade's office on her way home to drop off the finished proposal.

By a stroke of luck, she ran into Shizune on the walk home. Sakura ran to her and pressed the proposal into her hands. "Shizune! Great timing. Can I give you this for Tsunade's review before I submit it to the Board? She's expecting it."

Shizune flipped through the file. "Oh, yeah, the new wing thing – she mentioned it. I'll get it to her tonight. Cutting it a bit close with the deadline there, weren't you?"

"It's been a _little_ busy," said Sakura with a grimace.

Shizune smirked at the obvious understatement. "A little, eh? Working directly for the Hokage has its perks, but I kind of miss the hospital's rush. At least with this Sasuke project I get to relive the glory days…"

"Were you just with him?" asked Sakura, falling into pace next to her.

"Yeah. He's doing really well. I'm going to have him discharged soon – a week or two, tops, and he'll be out of here."

"That's good to hear."

Shizune considered Sakura with her bright eyes. "Sure you don't want me to transfer him back to you now that he's stable?"

"I'm sure," said Sakura. "Thanks for taking him on. It was a relief knowing that he was in such good hands."

Shizune surveyed her a moment longer. "Huh. Tsunade was right…"

"About…?"

"I didn't believe her when she said you didn't want to deal with him. But she can read you better than I can. You really don't want to deal with him…"

Sakura did not answer her as they walked down the hospital's wide laneway.

"I'm sorry for prying," said Shizune when the silence persisted. "It's none of my business, I know."

"It's okay," said Sakura. "Things are different now. That's all."

"Some changes are harder to adjust to than others," said Shizune. "You're probably sick of everyone's eyes boggling out as they start to realize that you don't…that you no longer…"

"Yeah. A bit."

Shizune took in a little breath and squeezed her stack of files closer to her chest. "Hey. You don't need to answer this because, again, it's none of my business. But...does Sasuke know?"

"Um…I haven't told him explicitly," said Sakura, glancing up at her. "I'd hoped he'd figure it out by himself, to be honest. It never seems to be the right time…"

"I think you should tell him," said Shizune.

"Why?"

"I think he…he might still be under the impression that things haven't changed."

"So…?" asked Sakura. "There'd be no impact on him anyway, it's not like he ever reciprocated my feelings."

"Maybe he didn't before. But now…"

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Now…?"

"Well, he sure asks about you a lot," said Shizune. She hesitated before speaking again. "I just – I think you should tell him. Sooner rather than later."

"I see."

They walked on together until their paths bifurcated to Sakura's neighbourhood on the right and the town centre on the left.

"This is me," said Sakura. "Goodnight, Shizune. And thanks. For the advice."

"No problem," said Shizune. "I just don't want this to become more, uh, complicated than it already is."

Sakura gave her a quick smile and wave while she thought, _dear kind Shizune, you have no goddamn idea…_

VVV

As she passed the training grounds on her way to her apartment, distant shouts attracted Sakura's attention. She veered in that direction, having a sneaking suspicion as to whose resounding yells they could be. Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw, in the distance, the figure of Gai flipping about acrobatically and punctuating each movement with a " _HOH!_ " or a " _HAH!_ "

As she approached, she saw that Gai's sparring partner was Kimimaro this evening. They were both in fine form – indeed, a little crowd of both shinobi and civilians had gathered behind the fence to admire the taijutsu expertise on display. Lee was the loudest of these watchers, balancing on top of a fencepost and shouting shrill exclamations whenever a move impressed him especially.

Not wanting to interrupt, Sakura crossed the street and was about to continue homewards when she saw, on a rooftop across the way, a figure perched discreetly behind a water cistern.

Curious as to who was watching the proceedings so secretively, Sakura climbed her way up to the roof.

"I should've figured," said Sakura as Kakashi's distinctive puff of grey hair came into view. "You couldn't just watch from down there like a normal person…"

Kakashi waved at her to join him. "Hey. I have an enigmatic aura to maintain. Can't mingle with the plebes too much."

"I'm not sure I'd call it _enigmatic_ so much as _peculiar_ , but…"

As she neared, Sakura noticed that Kakashi had pulled up his hitai ate and was watching the fight with his Sharingan activated.

"See something you like down there, Copy Ninja?"

"I did, actually," said Kakashi. Under his mask, his nose wrinkled. "But…"

"…You couldn't copy it," said Sakura.

"Bloodline limits," said Kakashi with a shake of his head. "They get in the way of my plagiarism racket."

He squatted down on the edge of the roof, his red eye tracking the movements of Kimimaro and Gai below. Sakura sat herself down next to him, her legs dangling over the ledge, and they watched the fight together.

It was the first time that Sakura had seen Kimimaro in action for years – probably since those sessions with Kabuto in Otogakure. Even back then, in his half-healed state, he'd been a sight to behold: precise, fast, strategic… But now, he was something else entirely.

Gai – with no gates opened, mind – was having trouble keeping up with him. Sakura narrowed her eyes to make sure that she was seeing it right, but yes, Gai was on the defensive more often than not, and when he wasn't, he was having real trouble landing any hits.

Sakura knew that she was strong, but she also knew her limits – including the fact that she was not on Gai's level when it came to pure, unenhanced hand-to-hand combat. So, if _he_ was having trouble…

With a sinking feeling, Sakura remembered her moment of stupid pride-fueled overconfidence at the restaurant, when she'd agreed to spar with Kimimaro and declared to him that she'd be kicking his ass.

"He's fast, your Kaguya friend," commented Kakashi when Kimimaro twirled off in a particularly spectacular evasion.

"He is," said Sakura. "I…have to admit I'm getting a little worried, now."

One of Kakashi's silvery eyebrows twitched. "Worried? About?"

"Um… I might've let my big mouth get away from me a while ago and agreed to spar with him…"

"Hah, did you?" said Kakashi, the corners of his eyes crinkling into a grin. " _This_ I gotta see. You tell me when it's going to happen. I might even show up on time."

"I'm not sure I want an audience," said Sakura, biting her lip. "Look at him… He's probably going to make mincemeat out of me. I don't want to make a spectacle of myself…"

Kakashi shifted in his seat, and Sakura could see that he was thinking about the matchup more seriously in the face of her self-doubt. Now he was getting _tactical_.

"Nah, he won't."

"How?"

"You've gotta specify no weapons. And then keep it close range – that's your forte – but I mean, _really_ close range. Make it a brawl, you know? Keep him at arm's length and no further."

Kakashi pointed to the training field, where Kimimaro had just dodged a flurry of Gai's punches in the most elegant way possible. "Don't let him dance away like that, see? He's got some fancy footwork and if Gai can't catch him, I can guarantee you won't catch him."

"Ugh," said Sakura, feeling more discouraged as she watched the display of skill on the training field.

"You can do it. He might out speed you, but you outmatch him in strength a hundred times over. Use it. Keep him in close. And then—" Kakashi held up a fist and smashed it into the ledge, "—crush him."

Sakura laughed. "I couldn't crush him if I wanted to."

"Pff," said Kakashi through his mask. "I've seen you split fissures into the earth a half-mile deep. What's a little flesh and bone…?"

"No, I actually can't," said Sakura. "I've tried."

"Oh?"

"We were arm-wrestling," said Sakura. In the face of Kakashi's now-raised eyebrow, she added, "I had an argument to win, so, obviously, I suggested arm-wrestling…"

"Obviously," said Kakashi, who had himself been a victim of this tactic in the past.

"Anyway, once he gets that bone armour up, he's basically immune to me. He didn't even flinch, not even when I was squeezing his hand hard enough to crush concrete…"

She turned to watch Kimimaro's graceful movements below and tapped a finger to her lip. "He does have fancy footwork, but that's assuming he has solid ground to stand on…"

"You can mess that up for him a little."

"Yeah. And I can play the dodging game just as well as he can – if there's one thing Tsunade hammered into me, literally, it's the importance of evasion. And I doubt he's fought an opponent whose regenerative abilities are just as good as his. Not that we'll come to blood, he'd never do that…"

Sakura's thoughts drifted off as she watched the white and green blurs that were Kimimaro and Gai come together in a skirmish, and then jump apart.

"No," said Kakashi, "he wouldn't."

Sakura glanced at him, surprised at the certainty in that statement. His eyes smiled at her.

"I see," said Sakura after having studied him for a moment. "You've learned about that, have you?"

"Learned about what?" asked Kakashi innocently.

"Kimimaro's, um… feelings."

"Maybe."

"How'd you find out?"

"I have my sources."

"Shizune."

"Yep."

"The findings of that report were confidential," said Sakura with a prim shake of her head.

"It was in the context of the Sasuke retrieval mission," said Kakashi. "As squad leader I was privy to a little extra information, you know."

"Oh."

There was a beat of silence.

"…I think it's cute," said Kakashi.

"Shut up."

"It _is_ , though."

Kakashi caught the punch that Sakura threw his way with a laugh. He turned his attention back to the combatants below. "What rank is Kimimaro, anyway? Jounin, I guess?"

Sakura gladly took him up on the change of subject. "I'm not sure. I doubt he's undergone any formal exams, not with the kind of life he's led…"

"Jounin level at least," said Kakashi, his Sharingan tracking Kimimaro once more. "I don't think he's even close to peaking, either. Gai says he doesn't let a session pass without learning something new. Bit of an obsessive guy… No wonder they get along."

"Yeah. He's got so much potential. I've been telling him for a long time."

"Mm. He'll go far, this kid."

"Twenty-five isn't a kid," said Sakura.

"It is to me," said Kakashi.

"Oh yeah," said Sakura. "I forgot. You're old."

Kakashi pushed her off the roof.

Sakura tumbled gracefully down, cackling all the way.


	31. Chapter 31

A few nights later, Sakura sat at the kitchen table catching up on the mail that had piled up in her mailbox in the last couple of weeks. She muttered to herself about needing a personal assistant to deal with this crap as she flipped through bills and flyers and reminders from her dentist and sundry other uninteresting things…

"Huh, there's a couple letters in here for you," said Sakura, tossing them to Kimimaro, who was munching on a late-night snack across from her. "Dunno who they're from. They might've arrived a while ago, sorry…"

Her attention was diverted from Kimimaro's letters by the discovery of a large envelope bearing the Hokage's crest. She opened it to find that Tsunade had returned the pediatric wing proposal with her comments generously scrawled in red all over the document.

Kimimaro noticed Sakura's frown as she went through it. "What is that?"

"Oh, just a funding application for a new wing at the General that I'm proposing for pediatrics…"

In the face of Kimimaro's blank look, she elaborated: "That's like, a whole wing that would be just for sick kids. We've been tossing the idea around for years, and now we're finally reaching a breaking point in terms of capacity in our existing children's ward. I have to convince the Board to actually fund the building, though. I meet them next month."

"The Board?" repeated Kimimaro.

"The Board of Trustees. Like a…a group of people who hold the hospital's purse strings. Who make the financial decisions."

"Oh."

Sakura flipped over a few more pages. "I asked Tsunade for her comments, which she's always happy to provide quite _amply_ , as you can see. But sometimes she's almost too much of a realist. She doesn't think I have a chance in hell of getting this approved in the current fiscal climate."

At the very end of the document, Tsunade had scribbled an enormous Ryo symbol with five question marks tailing it. Sakura sighed at the sight. "She's probably right. There's no money. But we need more space for these kids. It's ridiculous how crammed in they are in the children's ward right now… They're overflowing into geriatrics, and that's not a good mix… I had a couple beds in a stairwell today."

Sakura slid the document back into the envelope. "I'll rework it and deal with it next week. It won't hurt to submit it to the Board, except maybe my pride when – _if_ they shoot me down…"

"Oh," said Kimimaro. He turned his attention back to the little pile of paper in front of him.

"What are those, anyway?" asked Sakura. "Who's even writing to you…?"

Kimimaro pushed his opened letters towards her with the tiniest frown. "Look."

Sakura picked up one letter (pink and perfumed) and read it, and began to grin. Then she read the second and the grin became giggles, and by the third and fourth letters the giggles became laughter.

"These are – these are _love letters_?!"

Kimimaro did not look impressed.

"Oh my god, Kimimaro," said Sakura, sifting through them again with renewed laughter. "You're so _popular…_ This one, this is one of the fruit stand girls, I think, she's very _forward_ , isn't she? This one's the cute little orderly from Surgery; she wants to go on a date, that's adorable. And this one – the butcher lady? I think she's _married?_ But I dunno, maybe she's your type—"

" _No_ ," said Kimimaro, with emphasis.

"And this one, oh, this one is the best, the typesetter from the _Kanata Kourier_ , when she found out the engagement wasn't true and saw you in person when you came with 'that Haruno girl' to correct it, she felt love's calling _and so wrote you these tender words_ … You're such a charmer, look at you go…"

"I am not."

"Really?" said Sakura, holding up the handfuls of paper wafting perfumes and shimmering with glitter. "I beg to differ. Look at all these eligible ladies!"

It was far too much fun to tease him, especially since she'd never seen him look _pouty_ before. Sakura flicked through the pages in front of her. "I think I'd go for the butcher lady, myself…"

"No."

"But think of the freebies, Kimimaro: steaks, bacon—"

"No."

"Okay, fruit stand girl?"

"No," said Kimimaro.

"Come on," said Sakura, poking at his leg with her foot under the table. "You're no fun… There's got to be one of them you like…"

Then Kimimaro gave her a look, a serious look that told her, obviously, there was one, and she was sitting right in front of him amusing herself at his expense, and he was not amused at all.

So Sakura stopped before she went too far, and shut up, and stuffed the letters into the garbage.

"Okay, okay. There. And if any of them ask me about you, I'll say you're not interested."

"Good," said Kimimaro.

Sakura tidied up her stacks of remaining mail, still grinning to herself, as Kimimaro, still pouty, moved to the couch and stared at the wall.

Sakura looked up. It was unusual for Kimimaro to willingly remove himself from her vicinity. Biting her lip to restrain her smiles, she finished up with her mail and joined him on the couch.

She moved a little closer when he continued to stare a hole into the wall. Then closer still when he ignored her further.

Finally, she got close enough to nudge him with her shoulder.

"Hey. I didn't mean to annoy you…"

"You did not annoy me."

"You sure _seem_ annoyed."

"I did not like those letters," said Kimimaro.

"Just ignore the next ones, then," said Sakura.

"The next ones…?"

"Well, yeah," said Sakura. "You'll be charming more Konoha ladies, I'm sure…"

"I do not want to," said Kimimaro.

"Hah. You will, whether you want to or not," said Sakura with a laugh. "You're interesting. You're _exotic_. And you have a tragic past and this whole mysterious shinobi thing going on…"

Kimimaro was still staring at the wall, so Sakura put a hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. "And, you know, you're stupidly good-looking."

He made a sound of disbelief, like this was a silly exaggeration.

"You don't believe me."

"No."

"You should," said Sakura. "How many guys do you think get letters like this on a regular basis?"

"I do not know," said Kimimaro.

" _Very_ few. They don't even know you, these women. They're throwing themselves at you on the basis of vague rumours about you – and because you're too pretty for your own good."

Still, he looked at her like he didn't believe her. Sakura pulled her knees under herself and edged closer to him.

"Okay, this?" she said running her fingertips along his jaw. "Super well-defined. This kind of jawline is like a chick magnet. That's Exhibit A.

"Exhibit B," she said, brushing her fingers along his cheeks. "Cheekbones. It's unfair how pretty these are, by the way. Ino and I have had some discussions…"

"Oh?" said Kimimaro, but he was already far away, adrift in some happy place because her soft touches did that to him.

"Exhibit C," said Sakura, tracing the crimson circles on his forehead. "Kekkei genkai markings – girls dig that. It means you've got power in you – a valuable bloodline. They want to have your babies. Like fruit stand girl. Here's a free piece of advice, okay, my previous jokes notwithstanding: never have a fling with her; she _will_ find a way to get knocked up…"

One of Kimimaro's eyebrows twitched, which reminded Sakura that they existed.

"Oh, yes, these," she said, smoothing them over. " _So_ adorable on those rare occasions when you frown…

"What are we at, now? D? E? I lost track… Anyway, lips," said Sakura, coming in close and brushing hers against his accidentally-on-purpose. "These are very nice lips. And your eyes – let's not even talk about your eyes, because poetry's not my thing and that's the only way I could do them justice…"

His hand was on the back of her neck now and pulling her in closer, but she braced her elbows against his shoulders.

"Have I proven my point?"

"Perhaps," said Kimimaro, searching her eyes. "Do these things have these effects on you?"

"Would I be practically sitting in your lap if they didn't?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. And she melted into him, because how could she do otherwise? Everything she'd said was the truth.

Their lips met, slow and easy. Again and again and again. Then she climbed on top of him a little more, and pressed her mouth in little kisses over Exhibits A and B and C and all the rest that she'd lost track of. She felt him breathe out against her cheek, saw his eyes cloud over with a slow euphoria. His hands were on her hips – he wanted her closer, but she shouldn't, or should she…?

She stopped when she caught a whiff of something sweet and summery.

"Kimimaro?"

"Mm?"

"Why do you smell like mangoes?"

That took him a second to process in his entranced state. "…What?"

"My soap."

"Oh," said Kimimaro, blinking at her. "Yes. I ran out of normal soap. I have been taking a lot of showers lately…"

"I'll get you some more," said Sakura. She stuffed her face into his neck and took a deep breath. "Mm. Though maybe we should let those ladies get close enough to smell it. And then they'll know you're taken. Like territory marking, you know?"

"I am taken?" asked Kimimaro.

Sakura bit her lip and hid her face in his neck. "…Did I just say that?"

"Yes."

"N-no I don't think I did," said Sakura, disentangling herself from him and entangling herself more profoundly in her confusion. " _Anyway_ , how was training today? I saw you guys out a couple days ago…"

There was a beat of silence as Kimimaro studied the little distance that she had put between them.

She was clearly uncomfortable; he permitted the change of subject. "Good. Gai and Lee, they are competitive."

"And you?"

"I am as well," said Kimimaro. He sighed and looked down at his legs ruefully. "I will be sore tomorrow."

"Where?"

Kimimaro ran a hand down his thigh. "Squats. So many thousands. And we sparred after when we were already tired. But they do not give up. So I did not, either."

"I'll have to catch one of your sessions some time," said Sakura. She pressed a hand into his thigh and, as in the old days, dissolved the lactic acid buildups there.

"I have not forgotten that you and I are to spar too," said Kimimaro.

"I know. I had a tactical discussion with my old sensei, actually, to make sure I bring you down." Sakura sat back with a sigh. "We'll do it – if I ever have a free afternoon in my life again…"

"Are you not free tomorrow?"

"I'm off, yeah. But I have to go to the library again; I've got a project I need to finish pulling together…"

"You are often at the library."

"I know. Researching. The old clans keep garbage records," said Sakura. "It all connects to you, though. I think I mentioned it to you when you were still imprisoned – I want to find a way to get rid of this missing-nin label you have. You deserve better."

"Oh."

Sakura bit at her lip. "I actually wanted to ask you something, but it's almost premature to because I don't even know if it could be done."

"Ask me what?"

"I'm – well, again, it's not clear to me _how_ this could work, or if it even _could…_ "

"But what is it?" asked Kimimaro.

Sakura pushed herself up and looked at him. "Would you consider joining the Leaf if you had a chance to do so?"

Kimimaro blinked at her. "That is a big question."

"I know. And like I said, it might be a moot point, anyway. I'm not sure it's even feasible."

"The Kaguya clan has never belonged to a village," said Kimimaro. "I believe they were too wild. Insubordinate."

"That _would_ be a problem for a shinobi village…"

"There was a connection with the Mist at one time, I know this," said Kimimaro. "But. Then there was the attack on Mist. You can see that it did not go well."

"Yeah, I remember reading about that. You had some crazy ancestors."

"I know," said Kimimaro, grave now. He looked down at her. "All of these visits to the library. They have been for this?"

"Yeah."

"You do a great deal of things for me," said Kimimaro.

"I like doing things for you."

"I feel that I do not do enough for you."

"You already have."

The merest twitch raised one of Kimimaro's eyebrows. "How?"

Sakura lowered her eyes and considered the question for a long moment before answering. "Before I met you, I was on a certain…path. And I didn't know that other paths existed, if that makes sense." She paused. "I haven't really thought this analogy through. Anyway, I thought there was only one road to...to happiness, or whatever we aim for in our lives…"

(That road was Sasuke, of course, finding Sasuke, pleasing Sasuke, marrying Sasuke, having a hundred babies with Sasuke, Sasuke Sasuke Sasuke.)

"But now, well, meeting you has taught me that there are more paths to happiness. Paralleling and crisscrossing each other, these different ways, these _unexpected_ ways. And being with you has taught me that things don't have to be like...like they were in my childhood daydreams. Things can be wildly different, but just as good, if not better…"

She trailed off and considered the man in front of her, who watched her with such attention, who valued her, who cared about her so profoundly. And she was grateful because the other path would've led to what? Sadness and some strange and loveless union…?

Better, yes. There was no doubt about that.

"You have done the same for me," said Kimimaro. "Before you there was only one way. A dark way…"

He took her hand, held it to his mouth, and kissed it. "I am glad our paths crossed."

The conversation lapsed into comfortable quietude, the kind you share with those you trust the most, as comfortably as you share your thoughts with them, and your fears, and your warmth with them on the couch.

"It is strange," said Kimimaro at length. "I had no reason to think of this before. But. I make decisions for the entirety of the Kaguya clan, now."

"You _are_ the Kaguya clan, Kimimaro."

"Yes." Kimimaro paused for a moment then said, solemnly, "So I may say the Kaguya clan would consider joining the Leaf."

Sakura grinned. "The Leaf is honoured that you would consider it, Mr. Kaguya."

"However. There would be some conditions."

Sakura was about to say that she wasn't sure he'd be in much of a position to negotiate conditions, but there was a rare playfulness in Kimimaro's look, and so she played along.

"Conditions? Tell me."

"There is a Haruno family, in the Leaf."

"Yes," said Sakura. "Only one surviving member there, as well."

"The Kaguya clan would seek an alliance with that family."

Sakura laughed; this was unexpected. "What kind of an alliance?"

"…What kind are there?"

"Lots," said Sakura, counting several out on her fingers: "Political ones, financial ones…military coalitions, marriage arrangements, trade agreements…"

"I do not know," said Kimimaro. "Whatever kind means I can stay with you."

"You aren't supposed to say you don't know in the middle of a negotiation," said Sakura. "That's a rookie mistake, Mr. Kaguya. You'll be taken advantage of by the Harunos. I hear they're ruthless."

"They can take advantage of me all they like," said Kimimaro.

Sakura bit her lip and looked away. "All joking aside, though, I don't know what this would entail. I have to finish researching it. And then, probably, another tango with the Council. We'd have to convince them."

"Oh."

"I'm starting to understand how they work," said Sakura. "All the red tape crap, all the heavy bureaucracy… It's all defensive measures. They only want what's best for the village…"

Again, a companionable silence fell. Kimimaro's hand found Sakura's and pulled it to his lap. He traced lines from her wrist to her fingertips and studied the ceiling.

"What are you thinking of?" asked Sakura.

"The Council," said Kimimaro. "When I met them, one of the old men asked me many questions."

"Mitokado, yeah," said Sakura, remembering that grilling. "He's a bit of a jerk."

"There was one question that I did not know the answer to," said Kimimaro.

"Which one?"

Kimimaro paused for a moment before he spoke again. "What is the nature of our relationship?"

Tonight was the night for big questions, apparently. Sakura pulled her knees to her chin and produced an answer that was somehow both the truth and a splendid cop-out: "I don't know either."

Kimimaro gave her a single nod and, to her relief, didn't press her further on the matter.


	32. Chapter 32

That night, Sakura had a strange dream about a figure chained to a rack in a shadowy place, illuminated only by unnatural blue-violet flames. As she watched, the flames rose, blistering and scorching at flesh. Then they abated and the figure glowed green, healing the hurts. The flames rose again and again scorched at the flesh (she could feel the pain of it; smell the awful acridity), and again the green glow of healing chakra returned, though more feebly this time…

Sakura awoke, breathing hard, to find that Kimimaro was shaking her.

"Are you alright?" His voice was worried in the dark.

"Yes – yes, I'm okay."

"What happened…?"

"Just a bad dream," said Sakura, still feeling the heat of those flames, still smelling burning flesh.

Kimimaro's fingers grazed her arm. "You are soaked with sweat."

It was true. She looked down to find that her top was plastered wetly against her and her hair clung to her neck, hot and damp. "God, it was so _real_ …"

"What was it?"

"A purple fire, someone burning," said Sakura, pushing off her hot blankets. "And then healing, and being burnt again…"

Kimimaro hovered at the side of her bed, concerned, uncertain. She reached up and he pulled her to her unsteady feet where she clung to him, waiting for a sudden head-rush to pass.

"It was so vivid," said Sakura into Kimimaro's shoulder. "Almost had the clarity of genjutsu, you know, when someone's messing with you…"

"Was someone…?"

"I don't know," said Sakura. "I don't think so. I didn't feel any chakra."

Kimimaro said nothing, but his hands on her waist were tight.

"I'm going to take a shower," said Sakura. "I need to cool down…"

She disengaged from Kimimaro's worried grip and made for the bathroom, peeling off her wet sleeping things in a daze, still shocked by the vividness of the dream. She'd felt the heat, the healing, the returning heat, a horrid endless torturous cycle…

The shower cooled her and calmed her. By the time Sakura was toweling off, she felt silly for having made such a fuss about what was obviously just a nightmare.

"I'm fine, really," she said to Kimimaro, who was waiting for her when she opened the bathroom door.

Her covers were soaked. Sakura stripped them off the bed with Kimimaro's help and stuffed everything into the wash, simultaneously amazed and grossed out at how much she'd managed to sweat. As if that fire were real, as if its heat were real…

It wasn't.

Moving on now.

"Damn it," said Sakura to the linen closet when she opened it a few minutes later. "I had a spare set of sheets and stuff, but I forgot I used it for your bed, Kimimaro." She reached for the old bedroll that was stuffed into the top shelf. "I'll just use this thing."

Kimimaro's warm hand covered hers where it reached for the bedroll. He pulled it down.

"Sleep with me."

She might've said no, if she weren't still rattled from that nightmare and a little scared of going back to sleep. If she could remember the last time she'd washed that musty bedroll. If Kimimaro hadn't been standing behind her so that she could feel the warmth of him against her back. If he hadn't said those words into her ear in that smooth voice that made the suggestion so very comforting and agreeable…

But the stars had aligned just so on this weird night that Sakura hesitated for only a moment before nodding.

Kimimaro had been expecting a refusal; while she hesitated, he'd started saying, "Or you can have my bed and I can—"

And then the nod on her part made him cut himself off. He stared at her as though unsure that he'd seen what he thought he'd seen.

"Yes," said Sakura, to clear up any doubts there. "I'd like that."

Then, since he was still standing there mutely, she took his hand, led the way to his room, and clambered into his bed, a little giddy with her own audacity. Kimimaro turned off the lights and climbed in a moment after.

And Sakura, snuggling her way under the blankets, found herself feeling like a naughty teenager because they shouldn't be doing this, but they were, and it was deliciously illicit, and yet so innocent…

The combination of increasing butterflies and her awareness of her own ridiculousness – they were both adults, for god's sake – made Sakura giggle in the dark.

Kimimaro, who had been settling in next to her, paused. "What?"

"I feel like I'm doing something Not Allowed," said Sakura. "Like – like sneaking into a boy's room at night…"

"Oh."

"I never did those things, you know. I was _super_ well-behaved. My mother wouldn't have stood for anything else. But I kind of get the thrill of it now…"

"So do I," said Kimimaro from close beside her in the dark. (So he too was feeling it, the low pulse of excitement, the loveliness of being so close, the delightful anticipation of what might happen next…)

Sakura turned onto her tummy and propped her chin up on her elbows. "I bet you would've been a well-behaved boy and listened to your parents and not snuck around at night. If you'd had a normal life, I mean. If you'd had the chance to be a normal teenager."

"Probably," said Kimimaro. There was a pause. "I have always followed orders. Wishes. Expectations."

"Always?" asked Sakura, her voice lilting into teasing in the dark. "Are you _sure_ about that?"

(Because, yes, Kimimaro was generally rule-abiding and docile and biddable. Until he wasn't. Until he went and defected from his village for the sake of a Leaf kunoichi.)

"Well," said Kimimaro, and Sakura thought she heard him smiling. "There was one exception. Because of a girl."

"A _girl_ ," repeated Sakura with a faux-shocked gasp.

"Yes," said Kimimaro. "A girl…I think. Sometimes I think she is more than that. Like a thing from those stories they tell children…fairy tales."

Sakura laughed. "I think you're exaggerating."

"No," said Kimimaro. "Let me tell you about her…"

"Okay," said Sakura, resting her chin in her hands and biting back a grin. "Tell me about her."

"When our paths first crossed, I was very ill," said Kimimaro. "Dying. In some ways, I was already dead."

"This sounds like a sad story…"

"It is a good story. This girl – with her healing or her magic, I do not know – she brought me back. She worked on me for many months. Endured me for many months. And she believed in me, even when I did not. And though we were enemies, she treated me with kindness, always…"

Sakura smiled in the dark.

"Kind hands, kind words," continued Kimimaro. "And beautiful. She looks like she is from the fairy tales, too. Her hair – pink, like petals. I have never seen such a lovely thing. And her eyes – when she opens her eyes, it is like all of spring opens up in an instant before you…"

Sakura, not sure whether to tear up or die of her blushes, squeezed her pillow to her chest and said nothing.

"However. She took something in exchange for all of these things," said Kimimaro.

"She did?"

"Yes."

"What was it…?"

"Something that I did not know I had to give," said Kimimaro. His hand sought hers out under the sheets and pulled it to the left side of his chest. "A piece of me, just here."

Sakura's throat grew tight. "Oh…"

"After that, I could not help but follow her," said Kimimaro. "Not because I want it back…"

"Then…why?" whispered Sakura, grateful for the darkness that hid her tear-filled eyes.

"Because I want to give her the rest."

…He was going to kill her one of these days with these moments of purity and of love that came out of nowhere and overfilled her with feelings that she wasn't equipped to handle, feelings that threatened to overflow and explode. These moments of sincerity so acute and trust so strong – and for _her_? (It was her that he was talking about, it was her hand he pressed to his chest so she could feel his heartbeat under her palm, she was the pink-haired girl in his story with eyes like spring who had stolen a piece of him…)

Sakura's heart swelled so large – so painfully – that she found it hard to breathe. She bit her lip, struggling to tamp down this swell of emotions whose intensity almost hurt.

She pressed the heel of her free hand across her eyes and took a long, shaky breath.

"Kimimaro, I…"

He waited for her to continue, his fingers brushing hers where they lay on his chest.

"You need to know how lucky she is, this girl. To have you in her life. She might not deserve you. She might be too gun-shy, too broken…"

"She can fix herself. She fixed me," said Kimimaro. There was a pause, then he added, "Mostly."

Sakura smiled a gentle, sad smile at him in the dark. "You have such faith in me."

A kiss on the back of her hand was her only answer. They interlaced their fingers and moved closer to each other until Sakura rested her head on Kimimaro's shoulder.

A soft touch told Sakura that Kimimaro was playing with her hair, twining the silky rose strands between his fingers. He breathed out a sigh of contentment.

It was a moment of peace – and bliss, and beauty, and joy. And as she lay there in that bliss and beauty and joy with Kimimaro's hand in hers and his other gently laced into her hair, Sakura realized something all of a sudden.

She was falling in love.

And she had been for quite some time.

Falling in love… Could this even be called falling, this slow feather-light drift into a fathomless unknown? It was more akin to floating, really – on and on down in a leisurely gyre, with no end in sight…

Sakura took a breath; the fall and the disorienting whirl of emotions spiralling down with her were giving her the most pleasant sense of vertigo. She blinked out of it – or thought she had – but now Kimimaro's nearness was front and centre of her senses: the smell of soap, her leg against his, his hand over hers, the skin of his bare shoulder against her cheek, and the dizziness persisted.

She hid it away in the deepest part of her soul, this fragile new understanding, this feeling – for it to grow stronger among those secret recesses that reverberated with her heartbeat. And as she lay there with him, and his gentle hands played with her hair, she knew that it wouldn't be long now before it grew too strong for her to keep hidden and that she would be forced to be brave, and bring it to light, and tell him, and to hell with the repercussions; she would deal, because this – this was going to make her _happy_.

So she held onto him and closed her eyes and delighted in the fall.

And it was the loveliest thing, the loveliest, loveliest thing…

VVV

_**To be continued...** _


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey… (I say casually as I slink back into existence.)
> 
> In all seriousness, I don’t like talking about personal stuff on here, but… let’s just say it’s been a rough year.
> 
> I believe that this will be the penultimate update before I complete this story. The next update will contain scenes and moments that have lived in my head for years and which I cannot wait to share with you. But, you know, the writing needs to be just so. And so my work continues.

 

With Kimimaro’s blessing obtained during their ‘negotiation session,’ Sakura redoubled her work on the Clan Plan project. She visited Hinata with a handful of queries and Hinata was able to confirm some of Sakura’s suspicions that the written accounts of clan histories were rather sanitized versions of the facts. Sakura found that the parts that really interested her – such as how those clans joined the Leaf in the first place – tended to be missing, or addressed only tangentially, or replaced by altogether fictitious accounts, because perhaps those moments didn’t quite fit into the lofty narratives the clans had constructed about themselves…

It took Sakura many hours of study and discreet interviews with the younger members of various families to pull together something approximating factual histories. This was a daunting exercise, but a necessary one, as much of her plan hinged on presenting the Council with such a hefty list of precedents that they would find it difficult to object to her request.

The bulk of Sakura’s preparations were just about done when, one morning, Shizune appeared in her office in a puff of smoke.

“You still looking to meet the Council ASAP? I have an opening,” said Shizune, rapping her pen against her clipboard.

Sakura looked up from a stack of requisitions with a start. “Shizune! Yes, definitely! When?”

“Eleven,” said Shizune, scribbling something off her list. “A bid for a new bridge just got deferred, so I’ve got a fifteen minute slot.”

“ _Eleven_ ?” repeated Sakura. “Eleven _today_? As in, an hour from now?”

Shizune gave Sakura a look over her papers. “You told me ASAP, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes, but this is no notice at all...”

“The next opening won’t be for a month,” said Shizune. “You want to postpone till then?”

Sakura ran her hands through her already disheveled hair. On the corner of her desk was a stack of five folders, identical copies of her presentation to the Council. A presentation that was pretty much ready – well, mostly ready. Seventy percent ready. She’d wanted to do some fact checking on a few of the Nara statistics and maybe tweak the wording on her recommendations…

“I can’t wait another month,” said Sakura, more to herself than Shizune. “I’ll take today’s slot. I’m ready enough. Here – can you see that the Council gets these files before the meeting? I made them each a copy...”

“Will do,” said Shizune, hoisting the folders into her arms and balancing her clipboard on top. Her businesslike demeanor slipped a little and revealed a look of friendly worry. “Tsunade told me about this project of yours. I hope you know what you’re doing…”

“I do,” said Sakura.

However, when Shizune had vanished in another cloud of smoke, Sakura looked down and added, in a small voice, “...I think.”

VVV

“This is a most unusual request, Ms. Haruno.”

The members of Konoha’s Council were peering at Sakura with eyes variously tired, bespectacled, or half-closed. It seemed to her that the predominant mood in the Council chamber was a questioning one at this stage; that is, “Why is this girl bothering us again?” and also, “When is lunch?”

“I am aware,” said Sakura. “And I very much appreciate you granting me an audience to talk to you about it.”

Councilwoman Utatane was flipping slowly through the pages of the documents in front of her. “ _Highly_ unconventional. It’s been a long time since the Leaf has added any clans to its roster.”

“A _very_ long time,” said Councilman Mitokado, looking equally unconvinced.

Tsunade, who had been briefed by Sakura on her newest venture and already told her that she was crazy, gave her a look that had grown familiar over the years: _I told you so, Haruno._

“Yes,” said Sakura. “A very long time. 82 years, to be precise. The Aburames.”

Mitokado studied her. “You’ve been doing your research, then.”

“I have.”

“Then you understand that naturalizing new clans isn’t something that the Hidden Leaf does lightly – or with any kind of frequency.”

“I do understand that,” said Sakura. “Though – I can’t say I always understand why. It seems to me that it would be a good thing to bolster the Leaf’s strength with new clans, especially with a bloodline as rare and powerful as the one in question.”

Councilman Hageru shook his bald head at Sakura like she was a naive child. “Bolster our strength...? The clans serve a purpose far more vast than this, my girl. Would you reduce them to mere _soldiers_? They are political players, financial players, guardians of our secrets and lore...”

Sakura braced herself: the ancient Councilman looked like he was gearing up for some rambling. His eyes disappeared under his white eyebrows as he frowned at her. “In times of war, clan heads make up the entirety of the war council. They are privy to Konoha’s strategies. They are trusted with her defense. You are young. You do not remember the days of war… I remember them. I remember the fears, child. The spying, not knowing who to trust, the backstabbing. We could only trust ourselves: the old, established clans… New blood does not mix well with old.”

Councilwoman Utatane sniffed significantly.

“Is there something my esteemed colleague would like to add?” asked Hageru, turning to her.

“As we discovered not so recently, not even the old, established clans can be trusted,” said Utatane, her steely half-moon spectacles glinting. “The Uchihas were one of our oldest. And they were planning a coup along a scale never seen before, or since.”

“This is an – unfortunate – truth,” conceded Hageru, sadness softening the deep lines of his face. “A heartbreaking truth. We can only hope that it was the first and last time that one of our own clans could consider betraying us in such a way.”

“All the more reason not to add a new one whose loyalty is untested,” added Mitokado.

General nods greeted this intervention. Sakura looked at Tsunade, who gave her the tiniest shrug: what had she expected?

Sakura’s heart began to sink until Councilwoman Furui piped up. “Untested loyalty? Mitokado, my dear, did you not read Yamanaka’s findings on the Kaguya boy? I’ve never read a cleaner report in my life. It makes me wonder if we shouldn’t implement such testing as a matter of course, on all of the clan heads – then there would be no further chance of a coup attempt. Think of the tragedy that could have been avoided, if only we had...”

A lively discussion on the merits, or not, of this suggestion, took place – and indeed, took up the bulk of the rest of the meeting.

Sakura found herself booted from the room at noon sharp, the lunch hour apparently having precedence over everything else, and was told that she would be summoned when the Council was ready to pursue the discussion, thank you, goodbye.

She stalked away from the Council chambers in a foul mood: she’d managed to speak for all of two minutes, had her request dismissed by an irrelevant war story, received no support whatsoever from Tsunade, and then, just so to make it perfectly clear how unimportant she was, she’d been superseded by _sandwiches_.

Her angry steps took her around a corner – and smack-dab into Ambassador Biwa.

“Ambassador,” gasped Sakura among her apologies. “I hope you aren’t hurt…”

The envoy from Mist straightened out his fine silk vest with a chortle. “Not at all, Miss Haruno – not at all. I have quite the formidable defense mechanism here, you see,” he said, patting his belly. “I suspect a distant relation to those Akimichis of yours, though I haven’t looked into it more than that…”

Sakura handed him his briefcase, still flustered. “Here you go. Are you here on business?”

“I suppose you could call it business,” said the Ambassador, collecting the briefcase from her. “Though speaking with the Lady Tsunade is more of a pleasure. I am meeting her this afternoon.”

“I’ll walk you,” said Sakura, falling into step with him. “She was just in a Council meeting. They just broke for lunch, so she’ll be out soon.”

They meandered through the corridors, their progress marked by respectful bows to the Ambassador by Leaf staffers. For his part, the Ambassador kept up a pleasant conversation about his possible kinship with the Akimichis, all old-world manners and quiet jokes.

They reached the seating area outside of Tsunade’s office.

“Well,” said Biwi, settling into a sofa, “we’ve chatted about me all the way here. I must be a good diplomat and keep things _bilateral_ , you know – and so, tell me, how are things with you, Ms. Haruno?”

“Busy, but good,” smiled Sakura. “I mean, my job doesn’t involve keeping shinobi villages at peace, so – no complaints.”

“Nonsense,” tutted Biwa. “If it weren’t for the efforts of you and your colleagues, there wouldn’t be shinobi left in those villages in the first place.”

“Keeping the peace would be easier that way,” laughed Sakura.

“Indeed.” Biwa glanced at his pocket watch and then down the hall: Tsunade was late. “Now, tell me – how are things with the Leaf’s new protégé? This Kaguya boy?”

Still the mood of light chit chat prevailed, but Sakura detected something a bit more intent in the way Biwa was watching her. Recollecting Biwa’s odd visit when Kimimaro had arrived, Sakura grew suddenly wary.

“Oh, fine,” she said vaguely. “Not much to say, he’s kept busy…”

“He has been an excellent ward by all accounts,” nodded Biwa. “Quite the change from his clan’s previous tendencies, or so they say. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet…”

The statement trailed off, inviting Sakura, if she were polite, to offer to arrange such a meeting. Thankfully, Tsunade’s sharp heels were now echoing down the hall, sparing Sakura from having to respond.

The Ambassador shook Sakura’s hand. “Ah – the Lady approaches. Ms. Haruno – always a pleasure. Until next time.”

Sakura made her goodbyes to Biwa and left the room. Then, suspicion having seized her heart, she backed into a nearby alcove and waited for the meeting between Biwa and Tsunade to end.

VVV

When the Ambassador left Tsunade’s office an hour later, Sakura paused just long enough to make sure he wasn’t turning around before bounding through the door.

She half expected to be chided by Tsunade for barging in like this, but Tsunade merely looked up, a frown on her face, and then gestured to Sakura’s usual seat. “Mm. I thought I saw you haunting the halls.”

Sakura took her seat. “I’m sorry, Tsunade. I’m just – I spoke to Ambassador Biwa and he asked me about Kimimaro again. It’s the second time he’s done that – he came to my apartment the night Kimimaro arrived, too – and my instincts are telling me it’s not just polite curiosity. I think he wants something, something to do with Kimimaro. Does he? What did he want to talk to you about? If it was village politics, I’ll leave right now...”

Tsunade studied Sakura for a moment without answering. Then she said, “It was village politics.”

However, when Sakura said, “Oh,” and made to rise, Tsunade held up her hand. “Politics as they relate to Kimimaro Kaguya.”

Sakura sat back down immediately. “What do you mean?”

Tsunade took her time pouring herself some tea, a pensive look on her face. Sakura declined her offer of a cup.

“Did you know that the Kaguya clan is originally from the Country of Water?” asked Tsunade.

“Yes,” said Sakura. “I read about it. Ages ago.”

“The Ambassador tells me they were never truly incorporated into Kirigakure. More _affiliated…_ They fought side by side sometimes – when the Kaguyas were paid enough and in the right mood – but they were too unruly to integrate into the Hidden Mist proper. Fierce fighters, apparently, given the right incentive. But reckless and insubordinate to a fault.”

Sakura was far more interested in the problems of the present than these tales of the past. “So? What does this have to do with Kimimaro? What does Biwa want?”

“The Mist is very interested in the fact that Kimimaro is a touch more _civilized_ , as far as Kaguyas go. That he’s ‘ _integrated so well into village life_ ,’ as the Ambassador says. That he’s following the rules we’ve laid out for him, kept to his curfews, and not caused trouble.”

“Why does he care...?” Sakura’s suspicions grew deeper. Somewhere near her heart, an uncharacteristic flutter of panic was building. “Tsunade,” she breathed through the fingers that were now pressed against her mouth, “does the Hidden Mist want Kimimaro back? Are they going to try to lay claim to him?”

Tsunade looked up from her tea to find Sakura staring at her wild-eyed and breathless. “I–”

“We _can’t_ let them take him,” interrupted Sakura, smacking Tsunade’s desk with the flat of her palm. “The Hidden Mist lost their chance when they treated his clan barbarically for decades and mismanaged their relationships with them so badly that they incited a riot. Tsunade, the Mist wiped out the entire Kaguya clan. It was a _genocide_.”

“All except one. Hence our present issue.” Tsunade pursed her lips, unruffled by Sakura’s outburst. “I don’t know what they want yet. Biwa was fishing for information just as much as he was feeding me hints. He’s shrewd – and very good at his job. He’s trying to figure out how much Kimimaro has been integrated in the Leaf and how much trouble it’ll be to get him back – if that’s what Kirigakure decides to do.”

“We _can’t_ let them have him back.”

Tsunade surveyed Sakura with her thoughtful hazel eyes, apparently amused at how flustered Sakura was. She swivelled her chair a little from left to right. “Why not? I believe one of your principal arguments to the Council today – very well written file, by the way – was how profoundly unfair it is that he’s a missing-nin. That he doesn’t deserve such a black mark because his reasons for defecting from the Sound were so capital-G Good. Well – Mist would repatriate him. He’d have a village again.”

Sakura found herself barely holding back a snarl. “He didn’t defect from the Sound for _them._ He came to the Leaf seeking amnesty and safety from Otogakure, not to be a pawn in inter-village political games. He came here for _me_.”

“Hm.” Tsunade tapped at her teacup with a fingernail. “Maybe I’ll ship you off to Mist too, then. I wonder what they’d offer for both of you. I could probably swing a good deal. Get those tariffs on sake imports lifted…”

“Tsunade!” cried Sakura, exasperated.

“I suppose you’re of more value to me than that.” Tsunade smiled and then grew serious. “Breathe, Sakura. We don’t know what they want yet. When they make their ask we can strategize about what’s best for the village.”

Sakura didn’t want to strategize about what was best for the village. She wanted what was best for _him_ . Which was staying with _her_.

“For all we know,” continued Tsunade, “they’re just poking around to gage whether or not Kimimaro has a vendetta against them. Whether he’s in any way unbalanced. Whether he wants to avenge their slaughter of his clan. We don’t know.”

“That’s an _extremely_ optimistic reading.” Sakura crossed her arms. “A shinobi like Kimimaro is worth a _lot_ to a village like Kirigakure.”

“It’s nevertheless where things stand right now: we don’t know. The good news is that Biwa is unaware of your little plan. He doesn’t know that it’s occurred to anyone to have Kimimaro naturalized as a citizen of Konoha – because he knows the prevailing attitudes here. He doesn’t know you’ve planted the seed of the possibility with the Council. And, right now, the Council doesn’t know that Kirigakure might have an interest in Kimimaro–”

“But don’t you have some kind of obligation to tell the Council about Biwa?” cut in Sakura with a frown. “As Hokage? You can’t keep this from them…?”

Tsunade gave Sakura the most precious little smirk. “Biwa? What about Biwa? He came for his monthly courtesy call and we made small talk about the goings-on in the village. Kimimaro came up naturally, and, just as naturally, Biwa gave me a bit of information on the clan, while asking a few casual questions himself. Beyond that, well... _I’m_ reading between the lines and _you’re_ speculating wildly. I’ll bring it to the Council’s attention when I have something official from the Hidden Mist. Meanwhile, your presentation to the Council will remain confidential, as do all of their discussions.”

“Thank you, Tsunade,” said Sakura, understanding now that Tsunade was toeing the line a little – and in her favour.

“However,” added Tsunade, “if I were you, I’d move whatever timeline you were working with up _._ Aggressively.”

Eyes brightened by fresh determination, Sakura nodded. “Okay. Yes. I will. I need your help with the Council – help me convince them...”

Tsunade shook her head. “I can’t help you. If this goes any higher – if the Kirigakure Council moves forward, as I suspect they might, with an ask – I can’t be seen to have been involved in a plot to keep Kimimaro here. You’re on your own with the Council.”

“But – but they’re so against it. You saw them today. They’re so hung up on their ideas of old stock, and what makes a Leaf clan, and so xenophobic, and set in their ways...” Sakura gasped as a thought occurred to her. “What if we delay until Kirigakure makes an official ask? I could use that as a strong argument – that another village wants him, because he and his bloodline are such an asset… that’s speaking their language, isn’t it?”

Tsunade considered the idea for a moment before speaking. “No. If Kirigakure makes an official demand for the return of a subject of the Country of Water, the Council will have to hand him over. To refuse the demand, and _then_ adopt him into the Leaf ourselves, would be a direct affront to the Hidden Mist. Two slaps in the face, actually. The Council won’t risk – and I wouldn’t risk – souring our relationship with them over a rogue ninja who belongs to them in the first place.”

“He doesn’t _belong_ to anyone,” said Sakura with fresh outrage.  

Tsunade shrugged. “You wanted to speak their language. In the eyes of Kirigakure, Kimimaro is a subject of theirs, born and bred in the Country of Water. Biwa told me the clan settled there centuries ago.”

“But they tried to _kill_ him.”

“And? They now have new information – that he’s biddable, not bloodthirsty. Of course that’s going to change their minds.” Tsunade swivelled her chair around so that she was facing the window. “The only thing I can do for you, to move this forward with the Council, is get you on an upcoming agenda sooner rather than later. A full half hour, this time.”

Tsunade turned her chair back to Sakura. “But, Sakura... you’re on your own in that room. When I’m in there, I’m the Hokage of the Hidden Leaf. The Mist can’t hear that I’m actively advocating for Kimimaro to stay here. I can’t risk our relationship with them.”

“I understand,” said Sakura.

“You’ll make this work,” said Tsunade. “I know you will.”

Sakura stared at Tsunade’s desk, feeling that, in this moment, Tsunade had far more faith in her abilities than she did herself.

VVV

Sakura’s brain was so stuffed with preoccupations and projects that this new urgency about Kimimaro felt like it was about to split her head. As she walked back to the hospital, she took a deep breath and filed it under ‘To Be Dealt With ASAP But Not Right Now’. Right now, she needed to be prepping for her meeting with the Board of Trustees of the General, because she was presenting her proposal for the creation of a children’s wing in two days.

That was the plan, anyway. What actually happened was that someone hooked her by the elbow as she passed Ichiraku Ramen. A split second later, Sakura found herself being plopped onto a stool by Ino.

“You, me, lunch,” said Ino. She called out an order to Ayame without waiting for a response from Sakura.

“But I–”

Ino turned to Sakura, her blue eyes grave. “We need to talk.”

Sakura’s objections died in the face of Ino’s seriousness. “This can’t be good...”

“No, it really isn’t.” Ino regarded Sakura critically. “You look exhausted. They’re overworking you. Is it that Sand delegation eating up your time?”

Sakura perked up momentarily at the mention of this pet project: “Yes! Among other things. But it’s _so_ worth it. We’re learning so much from each other. Collaboration between medic-nin of different nations needs to become a more widespread thing. I was thinking of putting together a kind of course on poison extraction techniques, actually, and inviting other villages–”

“Oh, _yes_ .” Ino clapped her hands together in over-exaggerated enthusiasm. “Putting together a _course_ . _Definitely_ a great idea. Add _more_ to your plate. I don’t think you have enough going on right now.”

Two steaming bowls of Ichiraku Ramen’s dinner special were placed in front of them by Ayame.

“Okay, okay,” said Sakura with a rueful laugh. “No course.”

Ino snapped her chopsticks open in an irritated manner. “Anyway – I have news. Uchiha news.”

“Oh?”

Ino leaned forwards and said, in a low voice: “They had me check out Sasuke this afternoon. Full scan. Ordered by the Council.”

“ _Really?_ I didn’t know they were planning that...”

“Shh,” said Ino, looking around. “They’re keeping it on the down-low. He’s scheduled to be discharged from the hospital tomorrow. But apparently the Council decided that, before letting him loose upon the world, it would be wise to have a little look-see in his head. You know, to make sure he wasn’t going to run again – or planning a rampage.”

Sakura wondered if this unanticipated decision hadn’t sprung from Councilwoman Furui’s intervention that morning. If so, well, at least one good thing had emerged from that stupid meeting…

Out loud, Sakura said, “That’s the first intelligent thing they’ve done in months. Did he cooperate?”

“Yes, surprisingly...” Ino paused to chew on a bamboo shoot. “It’s funny – when they asked me to go in today, I psyched myself up for a big ole genjutsu throw-down, ‘cause his brother gave me so much trouble. But Sasuke didn’t even resist. I think he could understand the Council’s reasoning for putting him through it, after all the shit he’s pulled. Anyway, I worked through him, looking for intentions – to run away, to kill us all, whatever…”

“And?”

Ino’s brow was furrowed. “There weren’t any.”

“But isn’t that… good?” asked Sakura, not understanding the frown.

Ino propped her elbows on either side of her steaming bowl of ramen, staring into its contents as though the answer might lie among the miso. “For the Council and the Leaf? Yeah. For Sasuke? I don’t know. When I say there weren’t any intentions, I mean there weren’t _any_ . No real goals, no real drive. He’s just... confused. About his brother, about his clan, about his path in life after all this… he’s like–” here Ino gesticulated with her chopsticks, trying to find the right analogy “–He’s like a compass that’s lost its magnet. He was so _driven_ before – crazily driven. I could feel echoes of it everywhere, these well-worn trains of thought, these deep grooves of _ambition_ and _purpose_. Now there’s nothing pulling him on. No brother to kill, no Orochimaru to follow. Just confusion. A spinning needle. No bearings.”

Sakura sat back with a sigh. Kimimaro had predicted something like this – a void, he had said. An emptiness. And Sasuke would suffer it doubly because he had lost two crucial motivators at the same time.

“I was thorough,” continued Ino. “Wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything – or that he wasn’t hiding anything. So I was prodding around and all I was getting was this murk of confused images of Itachi and Orochimaru, all distorted and fading away... And then, just when I was about to call it and pull out, I felt the brush of this peaceful thing…”

“Peaceful? In _Sasuke’s_ head?”

“I know. Yes, peaceful: it was a vision of the Uchiha compound at night, all lit up with red lanterns. And people in the windows – families. Uchiha families, happy and at peace.”

“Like a memory?” asked Sakura around a mouthful of scallions. “From before the massacre?”

“That’s what I thought at first,” said Ino. “But then, it felt too new to be a memory. It was too fresh. I realized it was more of a… a wish. And it couldn’t have been a memory, anyway, because…”

“Because what?” asked Sakura when Ino trailed off.

“Because, in this vision, you were in one of the windows.” Ino pressed her lips together hard. “...With him.”

Sakura’s chopsticks dropped into her bowl. “Ino. No.”

“Yes,” said Ino.

Sakura searched Ino’s face in disbelief. “You’re messing with me.”

“I would _never._ Not about this.”

“Goddamn it,” said Sakura, drawing her hands up to her face. “Why would you tell me?”

“Because you need to know.” Ino reached over to peel Sakura’s hands away from her eyes. “Listen – Sakura, look at me – it’s something he wants, eventually, distantly. I don’t think he’s even articulated it to himself yet, not fully. It’s nothing like his other ambitions were – it’s a dream…”

“But it’s the only one he has left,” said Sakura miserably through her fingers.

“That I could find, yes.” Ino sat back and crossed her arms. “Like I said, I was thorough. I needed to make sure he wasn’t planning a Konoha BBQ...”

The conversation lapsed for a moment as Ayame dropped by with a fresh pot of tea. The babble of voices around them surged: a chuunin team fresh from a mission was walking in and being hailed by friends. Behind the bar, pots hissed out steam, knives flew across fresh vegetables, pork simmered.

Ino poured out a cup of tea for each of them. When they were alone again, she continued: “It’s messed up. How is life so cruel? He fucks off, you pine for years, he comes back, you’re over him... and now he’s into you.”

“Frig,” said Sakura, staring at the paper lanterns overhead. “Shizune hinted at this the other day. But I kind of didn’t believe her… and I didn’t do anything about it, because what was I supposed to do? I don’t get it – Sasuke _must’ve_ noticed how different things are between us. He _can’t_ still think...”

Ino gave her a rare sympathetic look. “Boys are oblivious. You needed to spell it out for him when you loved him and he still barely got it. You’re going to need to spell out the end of it, too.”

“ _Gah_.” Sakura’s hands found her face again. “Why couldn’t the Council just exile him to the boonies and make my life easier…”

Ino straightened up with sudden indignation. “ _Very_ good question. Did you hear that the Council’s decided not to hold a trial for him?”

“They did? Tsunade mentioned that they were deliberating on it...”

“They decided against.” Ino speared an innocent shrimp with great irritation. “General consensus was that he wasn’t acting of his own volition over the past ten years. That he was just a kid at the time of his defection from the Leaf, who couldn’t be expected to withstand the effects of a cursed seal that strong, or the manipulations of a sannin.” Ino lowered her voice. “And, obviously, they want him to stick around and have lots of Sharinganey babies.”

“Well, Sasuke’s vision is lined up with the Council on that front,” said Sakura with a dark look.

“It’s gross. Those old farts are pardoning treason, assault, murder – and a shit ton of other crimes – because he’s an Uchiha.”

Sakura laughed, though it was tinged with something bitter. “Yeah. But those old farts are thinking long term. In eighty years, when we’re all dead, all that’ll matter is that those Sharinganey babies have had their own Sharinganey babies and that that power stays in Konoha. As long as the bloodline remains, no one will care that Sasuke was a traitor and faffed off for a decade, murdering people to get stronger. It’ll be ancient history by then… and believe me, this town forgets fast.”

Sakura jutted chin towards her bag, out of which poked a half-dozen books. “That’s what all this is about.”

Ino examined the bag with a raised eyebrow. “So that’s what you’re schlepping around? The whole history section of the Konoha Public Library?”

“Yeah. Research.”

“Work?”

“Personal curiosity.”

Ino rolled her eyes. “ _Nerd_ . I can’t even make fun of you, it doesn’t feel _sporting_ when you make it this easy. So what are you going to do about your Uchiha issue?”

“Ugh. _How_ do I still have an Uchiha issue?”

“You grew up into a bombshell with brains to match.” Ino shrugged. “Some would call it a blessing.”

“ _Ino_.”

“I’m just saying,” said Ino, twirling some noodles up to her mouth. “Finish your food and I’ll let you get on with whatever you were rushing off to do – protecting us for the next plague, or whatever…”

“Building a pediatric hospital wing, actually,” said Sakura, following suit with her noodles.

“Ah, yes,” said Ino, surveying Sakura over her bowl. “Saint Sakura, being beautiful and curing children. And you wonder why everyone’s in love with you.”

“Could you _not_...?”

Ino laughed as Sakura kicked her under the table.

VVV

The long-anticipated Board meeting took place as scheduled two days later.

It was Shizune who had the misfortune of catching Sakura on her way out of the boardroom immediately after. “Sakura! How did it–”

Sakura rounded on her, ablaze with frustration. “What’s the point in being Chief of Patient Care if I can’t even _care for patients_?”

Shizune took a step back and hugged her files to her chest. Sakura realized that she was, once again, morphing into Tsunade II, and that she ought to reel it in.

She took a breath. “Sorry, Shizune. It didn’t go well. I wouldn’t be taking it so badly if they’d flat out refused, like, ‘no, Ms. Haruno, this is a pipe dream and you need to put it away forever, and never bother us with it again.’ But they were so passionate about the idea, all of those fancy-pants trustees. They _loved_ it. That’s the worst part – having their whole-hearted support, in theory, but not in practice. It feels like I failed that much harder because I was that much closer...”

“Sakura,” said Shizune, trotting along to keep up with Sakura’s angry strides. “If they said you had their support, you didn’t fail…”

Sakura waved a dismissive hand. “Pff. Their support was a given. I had it all laid out too convincingly for it not to be – conservative budget, staffing requirements all lined up, an architect willing to design the wing for a minimal fee, feedback from consultations and focus groups excellent – not a single NIMBY crying about the proposed location, if you’ll believe it...

“So then they gave me a lecture about how they _understand_ that it’s important to make this kind of investment in infrastructure, and how they _understand_ how overcrowded we are, and how, in an ideal world, it’d be wonderful to fund a new wing – ‘but given the current fiscal climate, Ms. Haruno, you must understand that we cannot commit…’”

Shizune looked like she might want to agree with the trustees on the state of the budget. However, in the face of Sakura’s mood, she wisely kept this to herself.

“– _And!”_ said Sakura, whipping towards Shizune. “Also! They told me they were aware that the Hokage and the Council fully supported the initiative?! Which wasn’t my doing, I haven’t even approached them at this stage? So Tsunade must’ve talked to the Council _and_ the Board at some point…”

“She might’ve,” said Shizune noncommittally.

“...Which makes her a hero, but even that didn’t sway them. Anyway, I argued with them, because the consensus was so obviously that it would be an excellent thing for the General and for the Leaf (we could become a hub, you know, for children’s health care and research and so many good things). Two hours of back and forthing with them, and they agreed, by the end, to offer me thirty percent of what I’d need to fund this thing, but with the caveat that I can’t start building until I’ve found a source for the other seventy percent…”

Shizune winced: that was a lot of money. “So, basically, you need to win the lottery.”

“No. Like, ten lotteries. Multi-million ones. Alternatively, I need to find a really rich donor. Do you know any stupidly generous rich people?”

“No,” said Shizune.

“Me neither,” said Sakura.

She sank into cranky silence and mulled over possibilities: who did she know that was wealthy? Not just wealthy – absurdly wealthy, because funding a new wing like this was essentially building a small hospital and the costs were astronomical. She didn’t know anyone with that kind of wealth – much less anyone willing to part with a large chunk of it. Perhaps she could make a case for state funding from the Country of Fire; she had enough material to put together a convincing proposal, didn’t she? But a children’s hospital wasn’t a sexy project or a warlike one; it wouldn’t seize the attention of the Daimyo and his councillors… And she’d have to convince Tsunade to approach them, and Tsunade was adamant, like most Hokages before her, about keeping that gang at arm’s length from the Hidden Leaf, for many good reasons…

Sakura’s adrenaline from the meeting began to ebb and, as she and Shizune approached the Hospital entrance, thoughts of the project and the trustees and that intense negotiation session began to be replaced by other more pressing questions, such as when had she last slept.

Sakura waved at Shizune as she left, with a mumbled apology for biting off her head.

“I’m used to it,” grinned Shizune. “If you start yelling for sake at three in the morning, then I’ll start to worry.”

 


	34. Chapter 34

After her conversation with Ino, Sakura began to avoid Sasuke completely. So, when Naruto organized a dinner to celebrate Sasuke’s discharge from the hospital and his newfound freedom, Sakura unfortunately had an unspecified emergency to take care of at the hospital. When Sasuke resumed his training at the training grounds, Sakura decided to switch to the indoor arena to continue hers. When Hinata mentioned she’d seen him at the library, Sakura decided that she had done all the research she needed and that further visits wouldn’t be necessary.

She hoped that her avoidance, which grew progressively more obvious as weeks passed, would send Sasuke a message – and perhaps bruise his ego a little – and, ultimately, help him move on.

This cunning plan was put to the test when Sakura happened upon Sasuke one night as she was leaving work. He was leaning against one of the lampposts that marked the end of the hospital’s walkway, half in shadow, half in light. His hair was freshly cut and his clothes were new: deep blue replaced the Otogakure grey; his family’s red fan superseded the Sound crest.

Sakura waved at him, thinking that it was a chance meeting, and was ready to walk on by, until Sasuke said, “Do you have a minute?”

That was when Sakura realized that it wasn’t a chance meeting: he’d been waiting for her where he knew he’d find her. She slowed her steps and came to a halt beside him. Then, with an effort, she made civil small talk with him, about how he was doing, and whether he was getting settled in, and where he was living now, and how he was finding Konoha after so long…

Eventually, all of the generic questions were asked and the conversation came to an awkward standstill.

“I should go–” began Sakura.

“You look nice tonight,” said Sasuke. “I mean, you always do, but…”

Sakura looked down at herself (a jacket haphazardly thrown over scrubs; hair in a ponytail; unsexy shoes). “Um... Thanks. Listen, I really have to–”

“Why don’t I ever see you around?”

Sakura blinked at this interruption, the second in as many awkward seconds. Clearly, Sasuke had an agenda. He had adopted a casual pose, hands in his pockets, leaning against the lamppost, but his shoulders looked tense. His eye contact with her was brief and fleeting.

If this weren’t Sasuke Uchiha in front of her, Sakura would’ve thought she was making this man nervous.

“Yeah – I haven’t been around much. Running this place takes precedence over my social life,” said Sakura, tilting her head towards the hospital’s low silhouette across the grounds.

“I figured,” said Sasuke, eyeing the hospital instead of her. “Do you ever get a night off?”

“Sometimes,” said Sakura. “But we’re so busy that I like to volunteer in the ER when I can…”

“Right.” Sasuke’s black gaze sought hers and then withdrew. “Well – next time you’re off, let me know. We can catch up. Do drinks.”

“Drinks...?” repeated Sakura.

Distantly, her brain was telling her, oh my god, Sasuke had just asked her out.

...Which meant that he didn’t know anything about anything, this genius, yet dumb, Uchiha. He didn’t know he was ten years too late.

“Yeah,” said Sasuke. “Drinks. Like, you, me, a bar. Or a restaurant. Whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“Um...”

Damn Shizune and Ino for having been right, _ damn them _ . Sasuke didn’t know. Which meant that she had to tell him. She had to have that awkward, dreaded conversation with him, and tell him that that her little girl’s love for him was gone forever, largely through his doing. She wouldn’t have a better opportunity than right now: he’d just raised the issue, though inadvertently, and they were alone…

This would’ve been  _ so much easier  _ if he’d just been exiled to the sticks to think about the terrible things he’d done so she wouldn’t have to deal with him.

Sakura had turned down her fair share of men in her day, but this one... this one came with  _ baggage _ .

“I can’t really – I can’t really do drinks. But we could have coffee together?” proposed Sakura with a hesitant smile.

Sasuke blinked at her. “...Coffee?”

“Yes,” said Sakura. “Coffee. As – as friends.”

Sakura had never heard a silence as loud as the one that followed that particular suggestion.

“As friends,” repeated Sasuke at length, as though he might not have heard her correctly, or she might have misspoke.

“Yes,” said Sakura with false cheeriness. “It’d be fun. We can see if Naruto and Kakashi are free…”

Sasuke stared at her in mute astonishment.

Did he understand, now? Or did she have to make this even more crystal clear?

Were boys always this obtuse?

“...You don’t want to go out with me,” said Sasuke at length.

“Not – not romantically, no.”

Sasuke exhaled sharply. Something of that old temper, of that old entitlement, was rekindling in his eyes as he looked at her. He took a step closer to her, studying her face openly for the first time during this exchange.

“You’re messing with me,” he said. A disbelieving grin flashed, briefly, across his face. “I didn’t think you’d be the type. But, hey. If you wanna do the hard to get thing, we can do that. I probably deserve it, or whatever.”

So he still didn’t understand. He was going to make her spell this out for him, painfully, word by word.

“I’m not messing you,” said Sakura. “I’m not interested in you that way.”

“Yeah, right,” said Sasuke, taking another step closer. “You’ve been in love with me for years.”

His hand drifted to her chin and she felt the intention there, a vague intention to tilt her face up and maybe kiss her.

The wrongness of it made her feel ill.

“I  _ was _ in love with you,” corrected Sakura, flicking his hand away and taking a step back. “Was. Past tense. Not anymore.”

Sasuke was left with his hand raised to empty air. He brought it back down to his side with forced casualness.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

Briefly their eyes met and she saw hurt in his. (But it was only a fraction, a minute fraction, of the hurt he’d done to her...)

“You really don’t…?” asked Sasuke, still a little dumbfounded, still hoping this was a power play on her part, or a bad joke.

“No.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, turning to the black sky above instead of her, he asked, “Why?”

There was no succinct answer to that question; a thousand things had played into the why. Nevertheless, Sakura tried to keep it brief, to make this less awful for the both of them.

“It’s been ten years, Sasuke.”

“And...? It hasn’t been ten years since you made your little deal with Orochimaru. You loved me then – why else would you have agreed to it?”

“I agreed because he would’ve killed me otherwise,” said Sakura. “That was always the bottom line with him. But, yes, obviously, there were other reasons – I cared about you; I didn’t want you to be taken by him; you were important to me. And those things still hold true. It’s a – a different kind of love…”

Sasuke’s face remained expressionless as he processed this information. Then she saw a flicker of something dangerous in his black eyes. His fist tightened at his side. Of course he was getting angry: first she’d rejected his request for a date, and then his kiss, and now she was rejecting him – all of him.

And he was so – so  _ entitled _ , standing there, glaring at her, like she had somehow wronged him, that Sakura’s own temper began to simmer. “There’s no need to get pissed at me. I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t owe you anything.”

“I have good reasons to be pissed,” said Sasuke.

“No,” said Sakura, and the simmer spattered into a flare. “No, _ I _ have good reasons to be pissed. I loved you. I gave you my heart. But I was too  _ annoying _ . I was  _ weak _ , I was  _ stupid _ . Those are actual quotes. And then, with those loving words – and a punch to my head – you  _ left _ .”

Sasuke shook his head. “I had other things to deal with than a clingy little girl. Okay? I’m done dealing with those things now. I’m back. I didn’t think you’d be this fickle…”

“ _ Fickle? _ ” repeated Sakura. Her own fists clenched – a dangerous development for Sasuke, though he probably didn’t know it. “You fucked off for  _ eight years _ before I heard from you again – and only then because I’d been kidnapped by the Sound. Eight years, during which I risked my ass to try to find you, time and time again. And I pined, and I longed, and I  _ loved… _ ! Fickle?! Are you  _ serious _ ?”

Sasuke opened his mouth to answer but Sakura didn’t give him the chance. “I get that you had other things to deal with than a  _ clingy little girl _ . I get that. I also get that those things were so vastly important, so all-consuming, that you couldn’t find five minutes – three minutes – one measly minute – in all those  _ years _ , to send a message and say,  _ hey, I’m alive you guys, _ so maybe I wouldn’t be crying my heart out over you every night _ … _ ”

“I had a cursed seal eating at my goddamn brain,” said Sasuke with a sharp gesture towards his forehead. “If you think I even so much as thought about you  _ once  _ during all that time…”

Wow. Wow, that hurt. Sakura blanched and took a step back. “...Not even once?”

Sasuke clenched his jaw and tried to backtrack: “I don’t know. I don’t remember. Those years are just darkness.”

“And now?” asked Sakura.

“Now?”

“You just asked me out. You just tried to kiss me. What’s the deal?”

“I don’t – I – You’re not a little girl anymore. You’ve changed, okay? And I’ve changed. I’m seeing clearly again and I…”

Sasuke trailed off. Sakura waited for him to continue but he said nothing further.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” said Sakura. “So, what? Now you’re back, and now I check off your boxes? Now I’m pretty and I’m smart, and you think you just get to come back and carry on like nothing happened…? Did you expect me to wait forever?”

“Maybe that’s what I hoped.”

Sakura fell silent, at a loss for what to tell him.

Then, for a long moment, they stared at one another, and the gulf between them yawned wider the longer the silence endured.

It was Sasuke who broke it. “Is there someone else?”

And Sakura’s sore heart answered before her brain could filter it: “Yes.”

Sasuke hadn’t expected this answer. He stared fixedly into the distance, his jaw clenched, before spitting out, “ _ Who? _ ”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s none of your business.”

“ _ Why? _ Is it someone embarrassing?” asked Sasuke, a little of the old snideness making a comeback.

“No,” said Sakura.

“Lee. Shino.”

“No.”

“ _ Naruto? _ ”

“No.”

“Some civilian?”

“No.”

“Then who?” Sasuke’s fists were at his side again; he looked like he wanted to shake her. “Why’re you being so cagey?”

“Because, like I said, it’s none of your damn business.”

“Right. Whatever. Just tell me it isn’t the goddamn Kaguya...”

Sakura opened her mouth and closed it again, finding herself unable to flat out deny it. Her lack of an answer was all the confirmation that Sasuke needed.

He stared. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Sasuke…”

“No way.” Sasuke held his hands to his forehead. “This is a joke, you’re fucking with me…”

“I’m not.”

For the second time that evening, Sasuke fell into speechless disbelief.

“You’re seriously telling me,” he said at length, “that the someone else is _ Kimimaro? _ A runaway of Orochimaru’s? A missing-nin? Shit, Sakura. You’ve got some pretty low standards.”

“ _ You _ set the bar extremely low, yes,” said Sakura, anger adding a vicious edge to her words. “I mean – he’s never hit me. He’s never tried to kill me. Imagine that.”

The insult, boomeranged back at him, must’ve smarted; Sasuke’s jaw was clenched again.

“He left his village for me – not the other way around. And,” said Sakura, looking in the direction of her apartment, where Kimimaro waited, “he loves me. That’s a novel thing, for me. I’m still getting used to the idea.”

“What if I did?” asked Sasuke.

If he thought to manipulate her with that possibility, he was utterly misguided. That ship had sailed years ago – and sunk.

“I no longer base my decisions on what-ifs,” said Sakura. “I did that once and it was the worst mistake of my life.”

“You’re calling me a mistake.”

“I’m saying giving you my heart to stomp on was a mistake,” said Sakura. “And I won’t do it again.”

Sasuke stared at her, shook his head faintly, swallowed.

“I’m done here,” he said after a beat. “I’m done with your moralizing and your blaming–”

“Fine,” said Sakura.

“–and your  _ denial _ , and all this bullshit–”

“Goodnight, Sasuke,” said Sakura, turning away from him.

“You’ll come back to me.”

“I won’t.”

Sasuke glared at her, turned, and stalked off without another word.

Sakura carried on down the walkway. As she passed the lamppost that Sasuke had been leaning against earlier, a little splash of colour at its base caught her eye: there was a bouquet of flowers tucked into the grass behind it.

She heaved a sigh at the sight, understanding now what Sasuke had thought he’d see happen tonight: a little chit-chat, him asking her out, her agreeing, and him giving her those flowers, and maybe some making out against the lamppost…

And things hadn’t gone that way. Not even remotely. Because he was too late – too late by a decade. Too late by a broken heart.

It was over.

Sakura found herself waiting to fight tears that never came.

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I can’t write an old-school Naruto fanfic without having our protagonists enjoy a sparring session that brings nothing to the plot, but everything to the UST.

 

Sasuke’s mysterious, and unnecessary, library visits, ceased after this exchange. This was good news for Sakura, who received an invitation to finish her discussion with the Council the next week. She hit the books hard, fine-tuning every aspect of her presentation so that she could convince that band of old-school doctrinaires to inject some new blood into their village before the Mist took away the opportunity entirely.

On this particular afternoon, she made her way home from yet another stint at the library, burdened by a large stack of books. The front door to her building was shut and so Sakura, loath to put her books on the ground, leaned back on one leg and tried to open the door with her foot.

The door was locked. At this point, the topmost volume on the pile of books decided to make a break for freedom and began to slide off; Sakura caught the corner of the cover with her teeth and made a muffled sound of distress when the next book began to slip...

“Typical.”

Of course, Ino _would_ chose that moment to walk by.

“My timing is impeccable as always, I know,” said Ino, plucking the book out of Sakura’s mouth and relieving her of the ones that threatened to fall. “I have, like, a sixth sense about you.”

Sakura spat out the taste of old paper. “You do, and thank god. Keys are in my right pocket, if you’d be so kind…”

Ino sighed in a put-upon way as she fished out the keys. “I _suppose._ Where’s Kimimaro?”

“Out with Gai and co., I think...”

“Pff. If _I_ had a ward, I’d make him my errand boy and never have to carry anything ever again,” said Ino, unlocking the building’s double doors. “I just got off work – are you free?”

“For a bit. Just dropping these off and then I’ve got a training session…”

They unloaded the books on the counter and Sakura disappeared into her room to change into her training gear. Ino, who hadn’t been over since her return from the retrieval mission, poked around the apartment.

“Ooh, so this is Kimimaro’s room now,” she said, sticking her head in what used to be Sakura’s study. “Cute. But I would’ve put the dresser on the other side – and you need like, an accent colour to pull it together, maybe some throw pillows...”

“I don’t think he really cares about the decor,” called Sakura.

“Ooh, and what’s this?” asked Ino, having found a few shirts draped over a chair. “These are new. Are they his? They’re _pretty_ …”

“Yeah, I had them made for him,” said Sakura, sticking her head out of her bedroom to see what Ino was fussing over. “He didn’t really have anything to wear, so…”

“Fancy. They must’ve cost you,” said Ino, holding one up.

Sakura tugged a tank top over her sports bra. “A bit. The Council funds most of his expenses...”

“Ooh – is this his family’s crest?” asked Ino, studying the motif on the back. “You had that put on for him?”

“Yeah, it seemed like a nice thing to do. You clan people really like your symbology…”

“It _was_ a nice thing to do,” said Ino, folding the shirt back up with a kind of thoughtfulness. “And what’s this?”

Sakura was now rustling around by the front door, looking for her boots. She glanced up at the little bouquet in the middle of the table that had caught Ino’s eye. “Camellias, I think...”

“I know they’re camellias, you doofus,” said Ino. “Of all people, _I’d_ know that. Who’re they from?”

“Uh – Kimimaro found them somewhere and brought them back for me – said they were pretty…”

“Pretty, yes,” said Ino, touching the white flowers and pulling a few up higher to give the bouquet a more artistic effect. “Camellias are a token of devotion. Did you know?”

“Are they?” asked Sakura absently as she slipped on her boots.

“Yeah, they are. God… you buy him stuff, he gets you flowers, you live together… you guys might as well be together.”

This was an offhand remark on Ino’s part – and so it would have remained, had Sakura not suddenly blushed and grown unnecessarily focused on zipping up her boots.  

It wasn’t fair, how sensitive Ino was to her moods. Ino turned towards her slowly in the face of this sudden blushy silence.

Then, a second later, a little gasp from Ino’s lips marked the moment when she put the pieces together.

“Sakura...”

Sakura pretended to struggle with her zipper and did not answer.

“Hey,” said Ino, sliding half of her butt into the chair that Sakura was occupying. “I’m talking to you.”

“Ino, you’re in my way–”

Ino edged herself into Sakura’s lap. Sakura looked up to find Ino staring at her with those crystalline eyes. “Are you… into him?”

“Into who?” asked Sakura stupidly.

“Kimimaro.”

Sakura scoffed. “Don’t be silly.”

Ino leaned in close. “Oh my god. You are. You _so_ are.”

“Pff,” said Sakura, turning away to shield herself from Ino’s eyes, which only confirmed what Ino had just understood.

“You – this is – he’s – oh my god, though?!” said Ino with stunning coherence.

“Ino–”

“No – wait – this makes so much sense? And you… you’re so happy…?” said Ino, hyperventilating a little now. “ _Ohmygod_...”

“You’re reading too much into things–”

“No no no. I haven’t been reading _enough_ into things,” said Ino. She grabbed hold of Sakura’s face. “Stop denying it.”

“I–”

“No,” said Ino, frowning fiercely. “I’m already annoyed at myself for missing it, and I’m going to get annoyed at you if you keep playing dumb.”

“I have to go,” said Sakura.

“We _need_ to talk about this.”

“I’m going to be late–”

“You can be late,” said Ino, settling herself more firmly on Sakura’s lap.

“No, I can’t,” squirmed Sakura.

Ino held her down with her hands on her shoulders. “Why? Who are you training with that’s _sooo_ important?”

Sakura opened her mouth to fabricate something and promptly forgot the names of everyone she’d ever met in her life.

“It’s – with – with, um–”

“...It’s _him_ ,” said Ino shrilly. “It’s _so_ him. Oh my god, this is _too good_ …”

“It’s _not_ , and you need to get off me, before I toss you off,” said Sakura, grabbing hold of Ino’s waist with every intention of flinging her away.

Someone knocked on the door with irritating joviality.

“What?” said Sakura.

“Hello, Sakura!” said Lee, pushing the door open and jogging on the spot. “Would you like to run together to the training grounds? Kimimaro is waiting for you there! Let’s not be late...!”

Lee’s enthusiastically punctuated words trailed off at the sight of Ino on Sakura’s lap, Ino’s hair draped over Sakura’s shoulder, Sakura’s hands on Ino’s hips...

“Yes,” said Sakura, standing up and dumping Ino onto the floor in the process.

“ _I knew it!_ ” shrieked Ino from the floor.

“Bye,” said Sakura.

Lee followed her out, discreetly wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve, and was unusually dreamy and pensive all the way downstairs.

VVV

“You ready, Kaguya?” said Sakura to Kimimaro.

Their little audience at the training grounds – Gai, Lee, and Tenten – shouted out some words of encouragement that were partially lost to distance. Sakura had chosen one of the outer training fields for this little skirmish – mostly because she could rough it up without anyone getting too angry at her for ruining the landscaping, but also because it was far away from curious eyes.

“Taijutsu only, no weapons, and say yield when you’ve had it,” said Sakura, recapping the brief set of rules they’d agreed on. “Anything else goes.”

“I am ready,” said Kimimaro.

As for Sakura, she was as ready as she could be. She had sparred a thousand times in her life, of course, but she had never entered a session with this peculiar combination of excitement and butterflies and adrenaline.

Her plan was simple: keep prodigy-boy here off balance, get him in close range, and give him a good reason to yield in the form of the threat of skull-shattering punches. (And she had an ace in the hole, if that didn’t work; an unorthodox, kind of unfair little move which she almost hoped she’d have occasion to use, because it _would_ be so much fun...)

“You know so much about my techniques and I so little about yours,” said Kimimaro as he watched Sakura adjust her black gloves. “It does not seem fair.”

“Well, you’re about to learn,” said Sakura with a smile, because what’s a sparring session without a little trash talk. “I look forward to educating you.”

“ _BEGIN!_ ” shouted Gai.

Kimimaro and Sakura moved in on each other in careful circles, judging each other’s readiness. Sakura had known that Kimimaro would be faster than she was and, much to her annoyance, he lost no time in confirming it.

They danced in a spiral that widened fast as he seemed determined to keep her at a distance until he learned just what he was dealing with. Sakura saw the ease with which he moved on this terrain – this dusty flat ground that provided just enough friction for stable footing, and just enough give for him to slip out of her reach when he needed to...

So, after a minute of this little dance, when it became clear to Sakura that she wouldn’t be getting Kimimaro into close range any time soon, she decided to change the terrain. His only forewarning was the flare of chakra that surged to her fist – and then her knuckles hit the ground with enough concussive force to fling anyone nearby into the sky.

Sakura looked up among clouds of billowing dust to find that Kimimaro had already been airborne when her fist hit the ground and thus avoided the worst of the quake. He landed on one of the newly formed hillocks a short distance away, looking with surprise at the altered landscape around him.

“I thought I should keep my distance from your fists,” said Kimimaro as he observed the high ridges of new earth emanating from the point of impact. “Now I know it.”

“Great idea, in theory,” said Sakura, “now whether or not you can actually implement it is another thing…”

She darted to where he stood and, a moment later, Kimimaro found that his little hill had crumbled to rubble beneath him. He flew to the next one, graceful as always, only to find it disappear in a split second beneath his feet. The next one exploded into slippery shale as soon as he landed.

An elegant tumble later and he’d found solid ground again a little further away.

“Strong,” said Kimimaro, from where he thought he was safe.

“Yes,” said Sakura, a little breathless now, before slamming a fist into the ground perfectly calculated to open a fissure beneath his feet.

Kimimaro did not say much after that, too preoccupied now with landing somewhere that didn’t immediately split into a void beneath him. Sakura gave chase with glee: it was fun to knock him off-balance as he jumped and flipped and found his footing on new ground apprehensively, before it disappeared from under him again.

“You’re running out of places to hide,” panted Sakura as she pursued him to the outer limits of the training field.

“Yes,” said Kimimaro.

Sakura pulverized his newest perch and Kimimaro found himself dangerously close to being cornered.

He considered his predicament with an impassive face. “Perhaps it is time to go on the offensive.”

“Finally,” said Sakura. “Come and get me.”

Something in the way she said these words made him look at her – really look at her. And she stared back, defiant, a queen of destruction among the rocky remains of the training field, dirt smudging its way up her arms and across her face, her chest heaving from exertion.

She waited for him to make a move but he was mesmerised by the sight of her like this, strong, a little wild, her blood up, her eyes bright.

Sakura did not have time to indulge such flights of fancy. A strand of hair escaped her ponytail and got caught on her lip; she pushed it away impatiently.

“Well?” said Sakura.

“Well?” said Kimimaro from somewhere behind her.

Kimimaro out-sped her; this she already knew, but she didn’t expect to miss him moving merely by blinking. But, so it was. Sakura whirled into a roundhouse and missed him completely, fell into a handspring with that momentum and kicked up again with a few feints that he didn’t bother to dodge–

And then Kimimaro _did_ go on the offensive, and Sakura found herself hard-pressed to block the bewilderingly rapid series of punches that followed. One block she flubbed – his feints were more sophisticated than hers and a right hook tricked her – and that punch would’ve hit home on her shoulder, except he pulled it, of course, and it was only a tap, just to let her know he could’ve shattered that joint, you know, if he’d wanted to.

As she defended against him with increasing desperation, Sakura began to understand that fighting someone like Kimimaro wasn’t a matter of reaction, it was a matter of anticipation. With most of her sparring partners she could be responsive – your turn, my turn, your turn – but with him, if she wanted to get anywhere, it would be a question of foresight, guessing, pre-empting…

So she let him carry on this flurry of punches that she now knew wouldn’t hurt her and dodged and blocked what she could, and learned. He had an artistic bent, this she knew, and in the context of this casual spar, he allowed himself to fall into little patterns, symmetrical almost – left followed right, two rights followed two lefts. (Sakura also realized at this point that he was, for all intents and purposes, ambidextrous; an excellent ability for a hand-to-hand fighter and she was a little jealous.)

Then, having had enough of the thuds of Kimimaro’s pity-punches on her skin, Sakura back flipped out of his reach. She twirled away again when he caught up to her in what seemed like no time at all.

She found herself able, after this brief study at close quarters, to anticipate him a little more, and so she was able to block his next punch solidly with the palm of her hand, and when he tried to pull away, her fingers tightened around his fist and she said, “I don’t think so.”

Her hand slid to his wrist and his eyes widened because he could feel the strength there, and he knew that he wasn’t breaking that grip easily.

They stilled, breathing hard at each other.

Distant cheering made Sakura look up. Others had joined Gai, Lee, and Tenten across the field: she thought she could see Kakashi’s scarecrowy figure, and Ino, and the spiky heads of Naruto, Kiba, and Shikamaru...

“Now what?” asked Kimimaro.

“Well,” said Sakura, holding her other fist level with his face, “if you were an actual enemy, I’d be redecorating the ground with your brain at this point.”

“Oh,” said Kimimaro.

“Yield?” asked Sakura.

“No,” said Kimimaro.

“Wh–?”

Sakura was interrupted by a sweeping kick that caught her behind the knees. She had a split-second decision to make to break her fall before her head hit the ground, and she made it: she let him go.

She watched Kimimaro dart out of her reach, sure-footed and elegant as ever – until she jammed a heel into the ground with three thousand pounds of perfectly controlled chakra-fueled pressure behind it.

“Hah,” said Sakura when Kimimaro dropped into a pit that wasn’t there a second ago.

There was the sound of scrambling and Kimimaro flipped his way out of the hole and dusted himself off, looking annoyed.

“Um – what are you doing?” asked Sakura when Kimimaro pulled off his top and hung it onto a nearby fencepost.

“I did not think that I would be getting so dirty,” said Kimimaro.

Sakura took this as a compliment.

“Well,” she said with a smirk, “you’re about to get dirtier.”

Which was all the warning Kimimaro got before another crevasse, bigger than the first, swallowed him whole.

But Sakura, in her enthusiasm, misjudged the strength required, and found the ground splitting below her too.

“So that’s what that feels like,” she muttered to herself as she recovered from the disorienting tumble.

Across from her in the rocky depths of the crevasse she saw Kimimaro’s pale figure vaulting its way back up. She smashed at the wall hard enough to shake it, but not collapse it, and Kimimaro’s grip failed, and he was back at the bottom of the pit with her.

He tried again, and again she shook the walls so that his handholds and footholds disappeared where he touched them. He landed on his feet with a grace that was starting to irritate her – no way she’d be that nimble tumbling down 20 feet…

“Hm,” said Kimimaro, looking up at the treacherous walls and taking stock of his new situation in life.

“So what’s your next move?” asked Sakura.

“Against an enemy – Sawarabi No Mai,” said Kimimaro. “Dance of the Seedling Fern.”

His eyes roved the rocky wall, looking for another way up. “Then I would be in control of this battleground and move on it where I willed, without these holes materializing under me...”

They fell silent, taking advantage of the lull to take a breather. Sunlight peeked into the crevasse from above, filtered to golden filaments among settling dust.

“Dance of the Seedling Fern,” said Sakura, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of a glove. “It sounds pretty.”

“It is, in a way,” said Kimimaro. “A dead white forest...”

“You’ll have to show me one day.”

“Whenever you wish.”

Sakura healed up a few scrapes and Kimimaro did the same, though unconsciously.

“...Shall we carry on?” asked Sakura at length.

Truth be told, she almost didn’t feel like it, now – the fire in her had blood abated a little and she was enjoying this interlude with Kimimaro, down here in the dark, with the cool earth pressing its silence around them.

“If you want,” said Kimimaro, perhaps in the same kind of mood.

They circled each other slowly, almost lazily, in the narrow confines of the crevasse. Sakura made a few half-hearted jabs; he avoided them; they circled again. This newest display of evasiveness made Sakura decide that the next time she caught hold of him, she _would_ make him yield. He seemed to have gotten an inkling of this intention and stayed just out of reach of her and her iron grip.

He was quite beautiful, flickering here and there between shadows and the streams of sunlight that flowed in from above, so intent on her and her movements, and still breathless. And he’d lost the shirt, which made him particularly interesting to look at–

Sakura’s inattention was rewarded by a bop on the nose that she wasn’t fast enough to block.

“Daydreaming,” said Kimimaro. “Focus.”

Did he just _tut_ at her?

“I’ll show you focus,” said Sakura, affronted, and she bombarded him with a dozen rapid-fire punches.

Kimimaro looked amused at her annoyance and skittered away, avoiding her renewed ferocity with a kind of exhilaration, and even laughing here and there when she snarked at him to stand still. Sakura chased after him and, finally, landed a solid kick (less the chakra that would’ve hurt) to his chest.

He grew more serious after that and then it was her turn to be chased around as he went on the offense and she was reduced to evading what she could and tanking the other hits with gritted teeth, knowing that any one of them could’ve put her out of commission until she healed, in a real fight…

“Brat,” said Sakura, when she blocked a hit, took a swing, and found herself punching thin air _again_.

Her momentum carried her into the rocky wall of the pit, which she crashed into sideways. Her skin was immediately aglow with green to heal fresh abrasions – but there was little she could do for her torn-up tank, which now hung uselessly off of her bloodied shoulder.

Sakura pulled off the ripped thing over her head and muttered to herself that she should’ve followed Kimimaro’s lead earlier and done without; her sports bra would’ve served her just fine the whole time.

Kimimaro studied her new attire without comment. Then he blinked. “Ready?”

“Yes,” said Sakura.

She deflected his next hit and spun away. After a few more scuffles, Sakura began to notice that Kimimaro wasn’t as concentrated as before: his blows were coming in a little less perfectly; his dodging wasn’t so impeccable…

He was distracted.

When they broke apart and he drifted into a stare in spite of himself, she understood that she was the reason for it. She didn’t _feel_ particularly attractive right now, sweaty and grimy and more than a little beaten up – but maybe she was, in a dirty, athletic kind of way, and she was showing way more skin than he was used to, which probably explained it…

Sakura paused to wipe at the rivulet of sweat that trickled into her cleavage, a movement which she suspected would further captivate his attention – and it did.

That gave her the opening she was looking for to move in and bop him on the nose.

“Daydreaming,” tutted Sakura. “Focus.”

Kimimaro stared at her with his mouth half-open for a moment – and then she was treated to one of his brief, bright smiles.

“You are right,” said Kimimaro.

“What’s got you so distracted, Kaguya?” asked Sakura, even if she already knew what the answer was.

“You,” said Kimimaro.

“Me?”

“Yes. It is not a fair fight.”

Sakura looked him up and down – lean muscles, glistening skin, those eyes – and said, “Trust me – it’s a fair fight.”

They resumed their positions and took a few false jabs at each other but Kimimaro made no effort to really keep away this time. He let her get up close, close enough that she was able to snatch his wrist for the second time that day.

“Yield?” asked Sakura again.

“No,” said Kimimaro.

His little knee trick didn’t work this time; she pulled him down with her.

Somehow she knew he’d cushion her fall, and he did, with a hand cradling her head. They tumbled around the rocky floor, no longer sparring, really, but roughhousing like idiot genin when school’s out.

And it became, as such things are wont to become, a game of who could be on top. Both of them were good at it: he was so stupidly quick he could snap out of her holds and she was strong and could toss him off whenever he managed to clamber onto her. They played the game for a bit, panting at each other, with Sakura swearing at him for being so slippery and him clenching his jaw whenever she flung him off of herself with a palm against his chest, like he weighed nothing at all.

Then, as they approached a point of exhaustion through this wrestling game, they slowed down, and Sakura threw him off more slowly than before, and he just lay on his back, breathing hard, and didn’t react when she climbed onto him and locked her knees around his hips and told him, this time, _this_ time he wasn’t going anywhere.

He didn’t answer; their chests heaved in time, touching, now, because she was leaning in to hold his hands in place above his head. He gave a half-hearted struggle; she pressed down harder.

“Yield,” breathed Sakura.

“No,” said Kimimaro.

“Fine,” said Sakura. “You leave me no choice.”

She felt Kimimaro brace himself beneath her, expecting to defend himself from a blow. Sakura laughed and shook her head at him.

“It’s not a... a _conventional_ move, the one that I’m going to use on you...”

“Oh?”

“But,” she said, leaning into him and whispering, “I’m not above using it, if I have to.”

In the shadows, she felt more than saw the shiver that she elicited with these words and the promise held therein. Her mouth brushed against his neck and she could feel tiny ripplings of goosebumps there.

“Yield,” said Sakura into his neck.

“No,” said Kimimaro.  

Sakura huffed out a little sigh, like he was trying her patience – but, really, she was savouring this soft moment of surrender-but-not-quite, of him lying beneath her and watching her with pupils made large by the shadows and something else...

“Stubborn,” said Sakura.

(She was too, of course, the look he gave her told her that.)

His wrists were still being held above his head by her unyielding grip; he wriggled a hand halfway out and she permitted its escape, curious about what he thought to do next.

His fingers ran up her arm, past her shoulder, and to the nape of her neck. “Come closer.”

Sakura looked down to where she was pressing herself against him. “Closer than this?”

“This is not enough,” said Kimimaro, eyes green-black, and veiled, almost, by her nearness, the weight of her against him, her heated skin on his.

(And then, in a voice so low that she almost didn’t hear it, “It is never enough _._ ”)

He took a breath when she smiled and lowered her face to his neck again, and dragged her lips along his hot skin.

“Then yield.”

“No.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to...?” said Sakura, whispering the words against his jawline. His eyes fluttered shut and it gave her a rush; it was a heady power, to make him drift into this quasi-trance because of her mouth and the words that accompanied it, he who had dominated her in their spar moments ago and was now powerless, and at her mercy.

He opened his eyes. “Come closer.”

“I will – if you yield.”

“No.”

Again her lips drifted closer to his, promising contact if only he’d give up already and give her the victory.

“Yield,” she whispered against the corner of his mouth.

It pleased her that, this time, it took him some effort to say no.

“You want me closer.”

“Yes.”

“You want me to kiss you.”

“Yes.”

“So yield and admit I win.”

“...No,” he said, his lips brushing against her cheek.

Sakura bit her lip. How far were they going to go, how long could they keep playing this, before one of them gave? She herself was feeling the tension of it, almost a pain in her bones, the ache of hormones and heart and old wants coming alive again – all of which were compelling _her_ to yield, and reach down, and press hot kisses on his lips, and run her hands down him, and relieve them both of this tension so unbearable and yet so… so...

She breathed against his mouth. “But you want to.”

He swallowed. She skimmed her nose and mouth here and there on his face; his cheek, his forehead between those two red circles.

“You – want – to,” said Sakura, and with each word her mouth flitted little kisses against his.

His jaw was clenched; he was trembling a little below her.

He opened his eyes – a stormy whirl of attraction and love and want so potent it gave her vertigo to see it. His fingers on the back of her neck tightened momentarily as though he wanted to end this game and pull her to him – then he breathed, and regained his self-control, and his grip loosened into caresses.

The moment of surrender was slow. He swallowed and brushed the back of his hand along the side of her face.

“I yield.”

Their eyes met – and then, so did their lips.

VVV

**To be continued...**

  



End file.
